


The Art of Diplomacy

by daughteroflilith



Series: The Moũsai Saga [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Cultural Norms are Relative, Extramarital Affairs, F/F, Infidelity, Jane Austen in Space, More Culture Than You Can Shake a Stick At, Sneaking Around, Space Opera, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, comedy of manners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-10-26 08:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20739392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daughteroflilith/pseuds/daughteroflilith
Summary: A diplomat is seduced by a foreign general.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying something new with this novella. Instead of writing porn with plot, I'm going to see how writing plot with porn goes. This work is going to be more of a comedy of manners than an action story and have a bit of a slower build than I usually do. Hopefully it works. Please enjoy.
> 
> P.S If you are here for the sex scenes they will start in the third chapter.

I watched my wife Cecily move through the crowd. She walked with an easy grace, as if she’d been born into a world of silk dresses and crystal champagne, instead of a windswept fishing village. Her gown clung to her slender frame like a second skin and her golden hair was beautiful twisted up above her delicate neck. 

I made my way back to her through the milling guests, two champagne flutes in hand. The silk gown was light as sunlight against my skin, arms and shoulders bare, something that would have made me essentially naked on my own world. It felt strange to wear a dress after so many years in a military uniform. I had no choice though, Calliopeans never wore uniforms at civilian functions and as diplomats Cecily and I had to observe local customs.

I also wore delicate silk gloves on my hands and a soft white ribbon about my throat in respect to the Calliopeans odd modesty about such things. I could never understand how they found it lurid to see a woman's hands or throats exposed in public and yet bared so much else.

My delicate heeled slippers hurt me feet. On my own planet, Thalia, no one but prostitutes wore heels. On Calliope most women did and I’d have stood out if I didn’t. 

I reached Cecily, where she’d paused speaking to the emperor’s mother. Cecily sensed my approach and turned to me. I gave her one of the delicate crystal glasses. She accepted it and slipped her free hand behind my neck to briefly kiss me lightly on the lips. She smiled almost conspiratorially as we pulled apart. 

The dowager empress seemed disinterested, absently sipping at her own drink. I was still struggling to become accustomed to the fact that such greetings were normal, even expected of couples in public here. Cecily seemed to like it though and I wasn’t one to argue.

She pulled me against her lightly. “Dowager Empress, please allow me to introduce you to my wife and consort Diplomatic Sergeant Walker.”

The graying haired matron leaned forward to kiss me politely on the forehead, as an elder woman should greet a younger one. Her lips were dry and cool. It was an oddly intimate greeting, more appropriate for a grandmother to a granddaughter than an empress to a diplomat, the woman was known to be eccentric though. Perhaps when you get old enough all younger women seem like girls. I bowed to her as any of non royal blood should a member of the emperor’s family.

“You seem like a lovely girl,” she said in Calliopean.

I don’t know what might have been said next because one of the Thalian diplomat’s younger staff suddenly hurried over. He whispered in Cecily’s ear. Her smile vanished in an instant and worry touched her light blue eyes. She bowed quickly to the dowager empress.

“Forgive me, your highness, I fear the ambassador needs my assistance.” She turned to hurry away and I’d have followed her if the old matron hadn’t grabbed my arm.

“Wait a moment child. Surely any crisis at a ball can’t be so severe that it requires both of you.” She smiled knowingly with her lightly painted lips considering me like an interesting sort of bird. “You’re more awkward than your consort,” she said with the bluntness of a woman who was not accustomed to being contradicted.

“She has a talent for speaking and I for listening,” I admitted

“You are well matched then. Perhaps there is some sense in Thalia’s arranged match making customs. I’m sure it certainly saves the trouble and uncertainty of a formal courting season. It’s all just a bunch of silliness, if you ask me.” She gestured, motioning to the hall around us. 

I looked up at the great arching walls of the ball room above us and the glow of the thousands of lights upon the chandeliers. All around was the clicking of glasses, the scuffing of shoes, the soft murmur of voices and laughter of women and men. Young nobles in silks of every color imaginable spun and twirled on the great polished floor. 

“I think there is much beauty in your own planet's ways.”

She smiled thinly, “Ever the diplomat. I suppose you are right. As a young woman I did love these balls above all things.” She nodded her head to me and headed off to mingle further into the crowd.

All around me complete strangers were asking each other to dance. Even if I hadn’t clearly been a foreigner, my hair piled up on top of my hair marked me as a married woman. On Calliope, married women only danced with their spouses and family members. 

I took a deep drink of the sweet bubbly wine and then cast about the room again, searching for Cecily. I didn’t see her in the crowded ballroom. I didn’t see anyone else from my diplomatic envoy either. 

I pushed through the crowd until I caught two of the most junior staff of the diplomat entourage, Jill and Mark, a couple so young they’d only just graduated the academy the year before.

They both saluted me quickly.

“Have you seen Sergeant Miller?” I asked them.

“She went out into the garden to translate for Ambassador Walters, who was walking with the emperor,” said Jill.

I nodded my thanks and went to find my wife. She’d want me by my side, to hear the conversation she was translating. I had a better memory than her and my understanding of the nuances of Calliopean was more advanced. 

I crossed from the light and warmth of the ballroom out into the cool night air of the huge palace gardens. I listened intently for the sound of familiar voices but if Cecily was speaking she was too far away for me to hear. I walked farther into the garden gathering up my long skirts in my right hand so that I couldn’t trip over them.

The night air blew coldly as I walked among the fragrant flowers and herbs in their square stone beds and I wished I still had the soft silk wrap I’d surrendered at the front door of the palace when we’d arrived.

I turned a corner among the maze of boxes and was met by the sound of gurgling water. The sight of the mermaid shaped statue in the moonlight was breathtaking. A bronze young woman rose from the fountains base, bare to the waist where the body transformed to that of a sea creature. Water flowed from the dais and the tip of her tail.

She must have been meant to look young or merely small breasted, it was hard to tell in the dim light. She pose was vulnerable and almost fearful, as if glimpsing the world above the waves for the first time. Poor thing, I knew what happened to her in the Calliopean legend. She gave up all she knew for love and still never got her prince.

My feet brought me to the edge of the fountain and I studied it, feeling something in my heart tighten. My whole life there’d been so few things like this, so little beauty but in the faces of other soldiers. Art was a new intoxication for me. I hadn’t had any culture lessons until after the arms-treatise.

“She’s pretty isn’t she?”

I whirled around at the sound of the strange voice.

I hadn’t heard her approach and yet General Reed was there, leaning back almost lazily against one of the higher garden squares, her gloved hands resting on the stones. She’d stretched out her longs legs. The grey suit she wore was almost identical to the uniform I’d seen her in the few times we’d crossed paths before. The collar almost hid the silk scarf she wore around her neck. 

Her curly dark hair was loose, too short to be tied back, too long to be a proper military length. She watched me with unreadable grey eyes and a careful smile on her scarred face. I knew her from more than a few battlefield negotiations but we’d never spoken directly.

“Who?” I said dumbly.

“The girl in the fountain, who else? You’re not bad looking yourself. A dress suits you better than a starched uniform ever did.” Her voice was warm and rough like the taste of trench brewed whiskey. 

She pushed away from the square, taking an easy step towards me, “where is your consort? I’ve never seen the two of you apart before, is such even proper?”

“We’re married not joined at the hip. She’s translating for the ambassador.”

“Ah, well she always struck me as the dutiful sort. What about you?”

I knew perfectly well she was flirting with me, how seriously I wasn’t sure. She was unmarried, a very rare thing for a woman of her age on Calliope. She also had a reputation for pursuing other women, utterly without any regard for whether they were married or not. Had she been a normal noble woman she could never have gotten away with it, at least without some social censure, but as a powerful general and a distant cousin of the emperor, she was granted some leeway. 

I crossed my arms. “I am a loyal soldier of the empire and a faithful wife to my consort.” 

She tilted her head to the side, “they make you practice that line?”

I shrugged and sat down on the edge of the fountain, “Something like that. Do you usually flirt so bluntly with women you barely know?”

She joined me but sat at a respectful distance. “I know you peace weaver, we negotiated the ceasefire on Galileo and the prisoner exchange on Hypatia”

“We did, although you can’t seem to remember my name.”

“Diplomatic Sergeant Walker, but that’s just your title and last name, which hardly seems the right thing to call you in a garden at night beneath the light of two such lovely moons.”

“You haven’t told me your first name either.”

She offered me her hand in a deliberately Thalian greeting, “Carmen.”

I hesitated knowing how intimate to the point of being obscene such a commonplace greeting in my own cultures was in hers. In the end, I still took her gloved hand. I could feel the heat of her skin through the silk.

“Elizabeth.”

“Then Elizabeth, for what it is worth, I respect your work. A lot of men and women would have died, who didn’t die, because you and your consort worked out the ceasefire on Galileo”

I couldn’t tell if she was in dead earnest or still flirting in some complex way. It didn’t really matter, I wasn’t going to bed with her. The honest compliment raised my curiosity, “You actually mean that?”

“One of my nephews was among the men carried off the field injured during that ceasefire. He wouldn’t have lived another day without help.”

I’d never been thanked by the enemy before for my work as a diplomat. I leaned back, resting my hands against the stones of the fountain. When I tilted my head I could see the twin moons blocking out the stars above us. “Let us hope the peace holds.”

She moved to stand beside me, her arm brushing mine, “you sound doubtful.”

“As a peace weaver I know exactly how delicate the weft can be,” It was a line from the Shari Shara not my own invention. 

From her faint smile my words evoked, I could tell that she recognized it.

There was a sudden sound of distant voices and steps moving along the path. I realized exactly how close we were standing and how it might appear. I took a quick guilty step to the side just as a man and woman walking arm and arm turned the corner of the path. They were so intent on each other they paid us no mind but the spell of the moment was still broken.

When they were gone, I offered General Reed a quick formal bow, “I must get back my consort, she will be needing me,” and hurried off before she could call me back.

I found Cecily back on the palace terrace, just finishing translating a conversation between the Thalian diplomat and the Calliopean Emperor. She was a slender golden haired figure standing between two graying old men, her voice an elegant song contrasted against their heavy rumblings. I moved silently to her side lightly touching her shoulder to let her know I was there.

The emperor and diplomat finished their discussion and everyone bowed as befit their station. The emperor and his flocks of retainers swept off. Ambassador Walters yawning widely.

“Gods, these events are interminable, are you two ready to go? Once I find my lovely wife we can make our escape.”

It was a short ride back to the embassy. No matter how many times I passed through the beautiful old manor house, it never lost its charm. It was all arching ceilings, stucco and french windows set on an acre of lush parkland. I loved it, although according to our security officer it was a nightmare to guard.

While the Thalian government usually prefered to build its own embassies and consulates, all embassies in the Calliopean capital were located in a historic district and it was forbidden to tear down any of the gorgeous old buildings there.

While normally, diplomatic functions were carried out in a separate building than diplomatic staff were housed, the manor house was so large most of the staff had their rooms in the east wing. Business was conducted in the west wing. At least it was a short walk to work in the morning.

Our suite of rooms was far bigger than anything we had ever had before. The modest sitting room, bedroom, dressing room and attached bathroom was an almost unbelievable luxury. We had spent our adult lives in base dormitories and matchbox bedrooms in embassies. 

Cecily began to shed her clothes as soon as I closed the door behind us. She stepped out of her heeled shoes, pausing briefly to pick them up on her way to the bedroom. She removed her silk shawl and folded it neatly. Her Draconian crystal earrings and necklace went next. These she paused to set carefully in a box. She would be returning them to the ambassador’s wife, Maria, in the morning. 

The one thing that no one had ever been able to convince the central office of was the necessity of getting female diplomats actual Calliopean jewelry with semi precious stones, not just the glass and paster pieces we were issued. As the ambassador's wife, a Calliopean native, put it, wearing any sort of imitation jewelry made a woman, “look like a child playing dress up or an unsuccessful courtesan.” 

For important state events, she lent some of her own collection to high ranking female members of the staff. In many ways, Maria was one of the most valuable assets our embassy could possibly have. She came from an old family and was the only reason any of us had the slightest idea how to maneuver through Calliopean high society.

I added a set of emerald earrings, necklaces and bracelets to the box to be returned to Maria and then set about removing my own shoes. It was a relief to be free of the tortuous things. 

“Darling, can you get my zipper?” asked Cecily. I stood up and went to help her. Evening wear on Calliope was designed to be put on and removed with the assistance of a maid but the embassy did not provide such, so Cecily had become very adept at playing that role for each other. 

She turned her back to me and I carefully undid the hook at the top of her dress before tugging down the zipper. Her skin felt warm beneath my fingers. without thinking I I leaned forward to kiss her naked shoulder. She smelled like lavender perfume. 

She pulled away. “I should hang this up.” 

She stepped out of the dress and went to do just that. She was far more perfunctory in how she helped me with my own zipper. By the time I had hung up my dress, she had already pulled on her sleeping shirt and was tugging back the covers, yawning. 

I put on my own sleeping clothes, turned off the light, and slipped beneath the blankets with her. I ached for her to reach for me as she had so often on the hard bunks of field offices, ship’s dormitories, and a thousand other places we had laid our heads in the years since we had left the academy. 

Instead she stayed as she was, turned away from me. My heart ached in my chest. I said nothing. To give voice to the distance would make it real and I wasn’t ready for that. I lay awake, looking up into the blackness of the room long after her breath grew even in sleep.

_ I dreamed of my village again that night. I was a child running through the hills, losing my way in grass as high as my head, the sun warm upon my head. I could hear the distant bleating of lambs and the heavy buzzing drone of spring bugs. _

_ I wanted to snatch at the forgotten sunlight but it crumbled in my fingers. Instead I was eighteen again and home for the first time in seven years since I had been chosen for the academy. It was the cruelest thing the military ever did to me, giving me a week’s leave before I took my final oaths. All it took was a few days for me to know that I had no place in my childhood home anymore. _

_ My village was so much smaller than I had remembered it. I had rejoiced to see my parents again and yet I had felt almost a stranger to them. A sister who had been born after I left, hid behind my mother, peering uncertainty at my unfamiliar face. Another village girl a few years younger than me wore the red and white apron of an apprentice and followed my mother on her rounds as a healer, as I once had. I realized I didn't even remember enough sheepherding to help my father with the flock.  _

_ I spent my nights sleeping on the guest pallet beside the fire, desperately missing Cecily and the barracks, wondering how she was faring in her visit to her own former home. After we both returned from leave, we wed as had been expected of us since we had been matched as girls. We took our oaths of loyalty with the rest of our diplomatic class and were on our way to our first post less than a month later.  _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth has another encounter with General Reed at a garden party.

Cecily was already gone when I awoke. She’d always been an earlier riser than me. In the past she would have kissed me awake. How many times had we stolen a few minutes of pleasure before the day began? Today though she dressed silently in the dark and slipped from the room before I even opened my eyes. 

I slipped from beneath the warm covers into the cool morning, the heating in the old manor house had never worked very well. It was still much warmer than the drafty dorm room of the military academy of my girlhood. 

I padded barefoot across the carpeted floor to the bathroom. The floor length mirror that dominated half the wall startled me, as it often did when I was too groggy to remember it was there. I had never seen such a thing before I came to Calliope and was still getting used to it. 

Normally I tried to ignore it. That morning I tugged my nightgown over my head and stood there, considering myself critically. A petite brunette woman well past youth and yet still far from middle age looked back at me. 

I was not beautiful, not by Thalian standards, not like Cecily was. My face was too small, my stature too short, my curves too slight. Hair and eyes as dark as mine were not what women in Thalian ballads had. Ironically, on Calliope my hair wasn’t dark enough, black hair and dark eyes being the default standard of beauty. 

I’d always felt beautiful in Cecily’s eyes though. She used to say I had the loveliest big eyes and the most winning smile. She didn’t say that anymore.

When I looked in the mirror though, my eyes looked tired. I searched for some other change, something that could have caused her to lose interest. I’d long since shed the intense skinniness of my girlhood but that was only to be expected with time. My breasts were slight but as well formed as they had ever been, my stomach was certainly not toned but it was still flat save for the slight rounding most women have.

Months of wearing the more revealing clothes of Calliope had given me the first slight tan I had had in a long time, but that was hardly unbecoming. There was still the scar tissues that marred my lower right side, just above the ribs, but Cecily had kissed those scars so many times, they were nothing new. I’d carried them since I was twenty.

My face had not been much changed by time beyond growing perhaps a bit thinner. I had to look very closely to see the very faint lines at the edges of my eyes that would surely deapen with time. Surely it could not be that

I had certainly not grown old or ugly. Whatever had caused Cecily to lose interest, it was not my body, unless she had simply grown tired of it. I turned from the mirror and stepped into the shower. The hot water felt wonderful, at least the water heater worked.

I tried to tell myself that I was overthinking things. I had heard often enough that a decline in passion was to be expected after enough years of marriage. In many ways Cecily and I had been lucky that we had so desired each other at the start, such was not true of many assigned matches. 

Perhaps we had burned away all our passion too quickly and brightly. We’d begun to lay together when we were still very young, long before we wed. While technically engaged couples weren’t supposed to do that, it was almost expected at the academy. Why else give matched pairs a shared room after their fourth year there?

I tried to tell myself that I should be grateful that we were still a strong pair, that we still worked well together, that we seldom quarreled. Then again, perhaps our problem was that we didn’t quarrel. Sometimes I couldn’t help but think that leaving things unsaid did us more harm than anything else. 

That afternoon we were supposed to go to a garden party hosted by the dowager empress. There had, however, been a small diplomatic incident involving a privateer ship flying the flag of our planet being caught smuggling Septian whiskey into a Calliopean port on a nearby moon. 

It would have been funny if the situation hadn’t been so delicate. Normally Calliope respected our letters of marque when we weren’t at war, so long as our privateers never targeted their ships. They never ignored smuggling though and wanted to ship off the entire crew to a penal colony.

If it had been a less famous privateer crew, we’d have let them do that to keep the peace. Captain Scarlet and the crew of the Star Chaser were something of media darlings and very well loved back on Thalia. It was unclear what had reduced them to smuggling, possibly the decrease of easy targets now that they could no longer target Calliopean freighters. Tariffs on foreign alcohol were so high on Callope, that smuggling was sometimes more lucrative, albeit less romanticized, than piracy. 

I was dispatched to represent the embassy at the garden party while everyone else put out fires of the incident with well drafted memos and official statements. I would have thought that Cecily, with her greater charms, would have been a better choice for the party but she asked me to go in her stead, so I went.

The ambassador's wife, Maria, accompanied me. I was glad of the company and support. I knew that she could safely guide me through any echelon of Calliopean society. Like me, Maria would never be accused of being a great beauty, at least in regards to Calliopean standards, not with her sharp nose and rather close set eyes and yet she was unfailingly, a woman of grace and charm. 

Once we were in the back of the embassy car, she told me, “Elizabeth, my dear, your ribbon is coming loose.”

My hand flew to my throat. The bow I had tied it in was indeed starting to slip. I colored. 

She only smiled gently and leaned forward. “It’s alright, you never had anyone to teach you how to do it properly.” Without asking permission, she slipped the whole thing lose. The windows were tinted and the driver could not see into the back of the car but I still felt exposed, strange how quickly you pick up the taboos of a new place. 

“Now, you should first loop it twice.” She delicately did just that. “Now, I’ve been meaning to tell you and the other staff, you must stop tying your ribbons in bows. It looks suggestive in a rather vulgar way.”

“I’ve seen women wear them like that in the palace.”

“Yes, but half of them are courtesans and the other half are young girls who think they are edgy for emulating them. It’s become such a trend that the poor courtesans are having to adopt new fashions in order to not be mistaken for virgins.”

I laughed, her wit never failed to bring a smile to my lips. 

Deftly she tied and tugged several loops before neatly tucking the ends into a flat knot. “There, you look much better, a proper lady.”

It was odd to hear her call me that. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was in Calliopean society. I was still a soldier but their soldiers weren’t diplomats, because of this our embassy had always played down the military affiliation of our foreign service. I had been trained to speak, act, and dress as a civilian noblewoman would on Calliope. Among other things, that meant no pants. Only women who were in the Calliopean military ever wore those. 

The car deposited us on the easter side of the palace grounds, where the dowager empress's residence and gardens were located. I drew my wool shawl around me as I stepped from the car, the sun was shining but the wind was cool. 

Soon enough we crossed into the elegantly laid out gardens. The sound of voices led us to a huge golden Avio Oak tree that was shedding its leaves, blanketing the grass beneath in a shining carpet of sunlight hues. 

Blankets and pillows had been set upon the grass, along with a series of low tables. The guests lounging on the blankets and drinking the strong autumn cider and tiny apple cakes were all women, as was traditional for such a gathering. 

Servants politely ushered us towards a mostly empty table, letting us pause to exchange greetings as we went. Maria seemed to know everyone. Although she was a second cousin once removed from the emperor, she was still of royal blood and had spent much of her girlhood in the palace. 

We were seated at a table that contained three women. One woman was a well into middle age and wore her greying black hair in an elegant twist. Beside her was a young woman who looked similar enough to be her daughter, she wore her hair down in a complex braid. The purple irises embroidered on her white shawl marked her as an eligible girl in her first official court season. She wore her ribbon in a bow and a bored scowl on her face.

Across from them was a stunning woman in her early thirties who wore her ginger hair upswept. She was dressed in all modesty from her neatly knotted ribbon to her elbow length gloves, I’d have through her a married noblewoman if not for the three blue rings she wore high on her left ear. 

She was a guild courtesan of the highest rank. Her relaxed posture suggested that she was at the gathering as a guest and not in a professional capacity. She looked too young to be a personal friend of the dowager but had likely been invited for her social status. 

“Margaret,” Maria greeted her warmly as we joined them. A round of cheek air kissing followed along with introductions. The older matron’s name proved to be Lady Liliana Baker and her daughter was Lady Susan. 

I had yet to master the art of sitting elegantly on the ground in a dress. I managed as best I could, trying not to accidentally flash anyone as I sat. Why did the damn dress have to be so short? It barely reached my knees and was far too easily caught by the wind. 

I’d finally gotten into a comfortable reclining position when someone else joined us. Instead of offering air kisses, General Reed bowed to all present and then sat down to my left. She was dressed more informally than she had been the night before, simple black trousers and a grey shirt embroidered with dragons. 

“You must all forgive my tardiness, I was called in to consult on the matter of the captured Thalian pirates.”

“Oh, I heard about that in the news,” said Lady Liliana. “The pirates sounded so fearsome.”

Excitedly her daughter leaned forward, showing the first real interest in anything she had exhibited, “You were captured by Captain Scarlet once weren’t you?”

General Reed smirked slightly. “Not really captured so much as rescued, even if she did ransom me.”

“Rescued?” asked the red haired courtesan. 

General Reed reached for a glass of hard cider and settled back for the telling. “Indeed. It was after the battle of the Orion Nebula. The ship I was on was one of the only ones that escaped but we took heavy damage. We didn’t make it very far. When the reactor core began to go critical I was down in the cargo bay helping with the wounded. I was close enough to the escape shuttles to make it out with a few others, the captain of the ship and her bridge crew did not.” Her expression grew solemn but she kept talking. 

“An asteroid storm separated our shuttle from the others and we drifted for nearly a week. Whatever may be said of Captain Scarlet, she and her crew did not ignore our distress beacon. When they found us, they took us on board as prisoners but they treated us well and helped our wounded. I and five other survivors were with them for nearly a month before we were ransomed home.” 

Lady Susan’s eyes nearly sparked. “Does Captain Scarlet really look like she does in the wanted pictures?” 

“Red hat with a plume, fancy red coat, silky corset and all,” General Reed was grinning now. “Bit shorter than you’d think though.”

“Is she dashing?” 

“Very.” 

“Did she seduce you?” 

As soon as the young noblewoman spoke, her mother snapped. “Susan!”

The girl made a face at her mother. “What, it’s a fair question.”

“That is hardly a fitting question to ask an honorable general,” said the mother. She turned to General Reed. “Forgive my daughter. It is her first season and we are still working on her manners.” 

General Reed shrugged. “It is fine.”

Lady Susan wasn’t ready to let the issue drop. “So did she?”

The edge of the general’s lip twitched slightly in amusement. “I’ll say that it was a bit more of the other way around and leave it at that.” 

It seemed that she stole a quick glance towards me as she spoke. 

The young noble woman, oblivious to the general’s distracted attention, blushed and giggled. 

Margaret smiled, “My dear general, you truly have mastered the humble brag.”

“I must have some talents,” she said offering her a grin. “After all, how am I to charm women now that I’ve lost the flush of youth and the beauty of my once unmarried face.”

The courtesan shook her head in amusement. “You are as charming as you ever were and that scar makes you look more distinguished.” 

The scar did and it didn’t. She was lucky that whatever blade or bit of shrapnel had marred her face had missed her left eye and left only a long red line from her cheekbone to her lip. It was still a bit startling to see, in the refined world of silk and manners that defined Calliopean high society, but it did not make her ugly. If anything, it emphasized how attractive the rest of her face was. As for having lost the flush of youth, she was no girl but she was likely not even yet in her forties. 

“And you, dear Margaret, are as talented with your words and compliments as I might ever dream to be,” said the general. I couldn’t tell if the two women were flirting or just playing a game forged of long acquaintance. Everyone around us seemed to be enjoying the banter. Again, I noticed that General Reed snuck a glance in my direction, the edge of her lip turned in an almost secretive smile. Had she noticed I was studying her?

The diplomat’s wife, took up the carafe of sweet apple liquor and refilled everyone’s glasses, except for the young noble woman’s. While the girl was old enough to drink, and traditionally all glasses should be filled, apparently Maria didn’t think the girl had the sense to not just keep emptying her glass. I had always thought the traditional of keeping glasses perpetually filled, to the point that you inevitably left a full one at the table at the end of an event, to be rather wasteful but it was the way of things. Maria had once explained to me that it wasn’t truly wasteful since servants would always drink any good liquor that remained. 

“In regards to the earlier topic of conversation, tell me general, when you were consulted on the matter of the pirates, what counsel did you give?”

General Reed lifted her refilled glass. “Lady Maria, you wouldn’t be fishing for clues to take back to your diplomat husband now would you?”

“I would be remiss in my duties if I did not.”

“Well, let it never be said I failed to assist a lady. I advised the emperor that he ought to ransom the crew and their ship back. That would allow all parties to save face but encourage your husband’s planet to still keep a more careful eye on their remaining soldiers of fortune now that the war has ended.”

“Wisely done,” said Maria.

“You say that now before you have learned the size of the ransom I advised the emperor to ask for. It is very much in my interest to discourage more Thalian privateers from turning smuggler, lest the emperor send his ships to hunt them. I’m rather enjoying my return to Calliopean society in this time of peace.”

“Not enough pretty women in the trenches?” quipped Margaret.

“Certainly not ones so finely dressed.” She turned to look at me openly for the first time during the gathering. “Why on Calliope, even foreign soldiers forgo their uniforms for lovelier things.”

I knew my face heated. “I am merely observing local custom.” 

“Silk suits you,” damn if that sly grin wasn’t back. “Certainly better than a wrinkled uniform ever did.” 

I wasn’t sure if I should take offense or not. The state of my uniform had usually been the least of my concerns when I had been in the field for weeks. Every time I had seen her at the negotiation table, she’d looked surprisingly well put together. 

I plucked at the hem of my dress. “Yes, this thing would have certainly served me well in the mud and sleet of Galileo.” 

Lady Susan perked up again. “Can you tell me about Galileo? What was it really like?”

Before I could reply, the girl’s mother intervened. “Susan, that is no fit subject for a leaf viewing party.” 

It struck me how little of my life was fit conversation for most events on Calliope. 

As the mother and daughter began to argue quietly, General Reed offered me her arm. “Can I interest you in a walk, Diplomatic Sergeant Walker?”

No wanting to be rude, I accepted the offer. It was customary to stroll the gardens during leaf viewing parties and to do it in smaller groups, usually only one or two companions.

I’d have liked to ask Maria to come along as well but she was already caught up in conversation with the courtesan, likely exchanging valuable gossip. General Reed led us in a slow stroll, once around the great oak Avio Oak and then out into a more rambling section of the garden. We passed planters filled with small ornamental trees. It felt strange to walk with my arm linked with hers. It would have been more natural to place my hand on her arm but that would have been considered far too intimate on Calliope. 

I spoke first before she could set the topic. “So the battlefield is not fit conversation for the dowager’s garden then, I take it?” 

“Most of our lives as soldiers are not. At least not for the ears of a young woman newly introduced to society.

I felt something in my chest tighten. “I was younger than that girl when I went to my first posting.”

“As was I.”

“Never had a season in white taffeta then?” 

I meant to tease but my words brought an almost sad look to her face. 

“Young officers don’t.”

“Did that ever trouble you?”

She shrugged, suddenly seeming very interested in a small red leafed tree in the planter beside us. “There was never enough money to give me a proper dowry and I did not have a fair enough face or pleasing enough temperament to make my fortune through marriage without one. My parents did the best they could by getting me into the military academy so that I could make my own way in life.”

She had both answered and not answered my question. I thought her face very fine and her temperament that of a charmer but I was no expect on what made a girl eligible in the Calliopean marriage market.

I knew the next thing I asked was very personal but the words escape me anyway. “Is that why you have never married?”

Soft laughter was not the response I expected. 

“Not at all. I’ve renown and fortune enough now to find a wife. I simply do not want one.”

“Truly?” the very idea was almost unthinkable to me. “You want to be alone?”

She led us into a partially hidden bower of flowering vines and drew me down onto a lichen covered stone bench. We were nearly hidden from the world there, sitting in the golden and green shadows of the vines.

She looked at me with mischievous grey eyes. “Who ever said I was alone? I’m not married because that would require me to choose one woman forever and that does not suit my nature at all.”

She was leaning far too close and I had to fight to keep my calm. “You truly are the rake the rumors paint you as, aren’t you?”

“I am many things.” She laid a hand over mine and her boldness sent a spark through me. “What of you? Are you happy with the one woman you chose?”

I felt frozen, a mouse before a snake. “I love my wife,” I stammered. I hadn’t chosen her though, had I? The military had done that for me. 

“And have you never desired another woman’s touch? Are you content to know one set of lips, one set of hands, until you die?”

“I…” I could find no words. 

She kissed me then.

I tried to draw back in shock but she had her other hand against my back, keeping me in place. I thought for half an instant to struggle and then something broke inside of me and I kissed her back. 

It was actually she who pulled away when the sound of distant voices drifted towards us. By the time that two girls passed our bower arm in arm giggling, the general was standing, looking as innocent as any woman might. 

Once the girls had passed, I stood as well. My face burned and my heart was a frantic bird beating its wings bloody against the cage of my ribs. “We should get back.”

She made a slight bow. “If that is what you want.”

I didn’t dare think of what I wanted, I just set out walking, fearing to remain in that bower for even a moment longer. 

She fell into step beside me, taking my arm again. “Don’t rush beautiful, it wouldn’t do for you to return to the others flushes and out of breath.”

I slowed, fighting for anything approaching calm. When at last my heart had slowed I told her. “What just happened must never happen again.”

“If you say so.” 

For all my attempts to rule my face, I must have still looked a bit wide eyed when we returned.

Maria waited until we were in the car heading back to the embassy to ask. “Is everything alright, you were awfully pale when you came back to the table.”

“Yes.”

“General Reed didn’t try something did she?”

“No, we got to talking of old battles and it upset me, that is all.” 

“Well, be careful with that one. She’s fully earned her reputation and she had no qualms about seducing married women.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "On Walpurgis night all things are permitted"
> 
> (If you're here for the sex scenes, they start in this chapter)

My first impulse was to confess what had happened to Cecily as soon as I saw her. When I returned to the embassy she was in a meeting. I tried all the rest of that afternoon to speak to her but I couldn’t seem to catch her alone. Finally, when she handed me a memo to edit I told her I needed to speak with her. 

She kissed me lightly on the cheek. “Can it wait darling? I want to get this sent out before dinner.”

I resigned myself to wait and focused on my duties as best I could. I had a good eye for catching typos, which unfortunately meant that most high level correspondence and statements in the embassy went through me before they went out. I was just high ranking enough to be trusted but not yet too senior to be asked to edit. 

Occasionally, it grated on me a bit but I didn’t complain. I had never possessed Cecily's eloquence and any public statements I wrote tended to be impressive dull. I could however write concise memos better than anyone else at our current posting. Shortening the ambassador’s daily bulletin to central command was one of my more important duties. That man had an undo fondness for adjectives.

From the papers crossing my desk, I learned that the Calliopean’s had indeed suggested ransoming the privateers back to us. They were also asking far too much for them. Captain Scarlet and her ship and crew might have been a figures of legend but they were not worth as much as a Thalian ship of the line. We were going to have to negotiate. 

The sun had long set before Cecily and I sat down for a meal with a few others in what had once been the servant’s dining room and was now used for all informal staff meals in the embassy. The big formal dining room was saved for state affairs. 

Cecily seemed to barely notice her food and spent half the meal tapping at her tablet. She never used to do that. No matter what was happening, we had always set aside all else to pass a few minutes together when meal times came. It had been that way for us since the academy. 

Only on Calliope had this changed. I talked to a few of the other embassy staff during the meal to pass the time, although I found I had little appetite. It wasn’t until we were back in our own room, preparing for bed that she finally turned her tired blue eyes to me. She set down her hairbrush and asked.

“What was it you wanted to talk about darling?”

I sat down on the edge, suddenly overwhelmed. “It’s about the garden party.”

She let out a breath, taking up her comb again, running it through the golden hair still wavy from her braid. “I’m sorry I sent you on your own, I know you hate going to those things without me but the embassy really needed someone to go and I couldn’t get away. You had Lady Maria with you at least. I’m sure she was a great help.”

“She was.” 

She smiled at me then and for an instant I felt like the most important woman in all the worlds. 

“There see, no harm done. I’m sure you were very charming.”

I tried to talk but the words would not rise to my lips.

She kissed my cheek, lips warm and fleeting. “I know I can always rely on you darling.” 

I ached to reach for her and kiss her properly but she was already standing and moving away. 

“I hate to ask but I may need you to go to another event without me. The ambassador has received several very prestigious invitations for Walpurgis, one at the palace, one at the home of Duchess Elena, and another at the Hall of Lilies. The ambassador and his wife will of course go to the one at the palace but the embassy needs to make an appearance at all of them.

“I think we should send Jill and Mark to Duchess Elena’s party, it’s a rather tame affair. I’d rather not send them on their own though, you know how they can still get overwhelmed by balls. I want them to get a chance to watch me networking among the nobles. I’ll need you to go to the Hall of Lilies.”

I chewed on my lip. “You want me to go to the Hall of While Lillies alone?” The Courtesan Guild’s masked Walpurgis ball was known to be a bit wild.

She nodded. “Yes, you seem to have a better grip of the intricacies of the social status of courtesans in Calliopean society than anyone else in the embassy. You can take one of the embassy guards as an escort, Jenny perhaps. She’s always said she’d like to go to a Walpurgis night ball.”

So it was, that a week later, I stepped out of the embassy car dressed as a swan. The costume had been Lady Maria’s idea, she said it was highly traditional. It as common enough that I had been able to buy the costume off the rack. 

I actually looked more like a ballerina, which was apparently meant to be a deliberate reference to an old Terran ballet. The dress was white and lacy and flared out at my hips before stopping at my knees. My legs were utterly bare all the way down to the delicate white slippers that went with the outfit. The top of the dress left my shoulders entirely bare, and some very carefully placed tape was the only thing keeping it up. The only vaguely swan like part of the whole affair was the feather crown in my hair. The small half mask tied over my eyes was plain white with black at the edges.

“Oh my goddess, this place is amazing!” Enthused Security Officer Jenny as she followed me out of the car. At least no one had tried to shove her into a dress. While she was a fine looking young woman, she lacked the grace to pull off most Calliopean clothes and probably would have tripped and fallen on her face if put in heels. 

As she wasn’t actually a diplomat, she’d been allowed to wear her uniform, although without any insignia. She wore a half mask similar to my own. It was made up of checkered red, green, purple and white harlequin colors. The effect was pleasing, especially set against her short dirty blond hair. 

I’d never seen her smile so broadly as she did when she took in the lantern lit marble steps leading up to the great stone guild hall. This was only her second posting and her youth showed in her enthusiasm as much as in her young face.

“I’m so happy you let me come with you,” she enthused. “This place is legendary. I heard that this ball has an entire castle sculpture made of ice and a giant rabbit made of chocolate.” 

“Let’s go see,” I said. 

She grabbed my hand and started up the steps, like a girl dragging a friend into a party. Was a silly costume and the promise of chocolate all it took for her to completely forget our respective ranks?

“Jenny!” I hissed. 

She paused looking over her shoulder in confusion. 

“People do not hold hands openly in polite Calliopean society,” I reminded her gently. We might be going to a courtesan’s ball, but they held to some taboos more stringently then even the highest nobles. 

She blushed as red as a tomato and dropped my hand. “Sorry, um, Sergeant Walker, ma’am.” 

She’d have probably saluted as well if I hadn’t slipped my arm through hers and started up the steps. 

“Come on, Private Smith, we mustn’t be so late that it ceases to be fashionable.”

The steps led us up to two ornately carved mahogany doors that stood open. I handed our invitations to a slightly nervous looking young man who wore a single silver hoop in the cartilage of his left ear, marking him as an apprentice courtesan in training. Apparently part of that training was watching doors. 

He directed us in and down a hall. We turned a corner and came upon the landing above the great ballroom. Everything was awash in color and light and sound. Above us hung a huge crystal chandelier surrounded by multi colored lanterns. Down a winding staircase lay the dance floor where couples in all manners of costumes waltzed eloquently. 

A small string orchestra played upon a stage off to one side while the rest of the walls of the room were lined with chairs and small tables. The entire western side was given over to a very impressive collection of food. There was indeed a giant ice castle. There was sadly no chocolate bunny but there did appear to be a great number of other delicacies. I even spied a small tower of champagne glasses stacked in a rising tower.

A young woman, with a blue earing, marking her as the lowest level of guild courtesan, announced us after consulting our invitation. She spoke softly but had a microphone that amplified her voice. 

Once were were down the stairs, I nearly had to restrain Jenny from making a bee line for the food. 

“We need to make a round of greetings first,” I admonished her gently. To show that I was not heartless, I snatched two tarts off a passing tray and handed one to her. 

“Do we know anyone?” she asked as she stuffed the entire thing in her mouth. If she was going to accompany me again, anywhere, she was going to need some etiquette lessons. 

“Of course I do.” When I looked about the room, I felt a great deal less confident. I thought I had met a great number of courtesans at palace events but I saw few faces I recognized. I knew that some of the guests should have been Calliopean nobles, but the few faces I saw without hoop earings were unknown to me. 

It came as a huge relief when I heard my name. “Lady Elizabeth, so good to see you.” 

I turned grateful to greet Margaret. While I technically had no right to that title, I did not correct her. 

She wore a beautiful red dress and a fox half mask. Her copper hair was unmistakable.

We performed the expected air kisses. Jenny’s eyes went wide with panic when Margaret leaned towards her. She quickly offered a very clumsy bow rather than attempt the more intimate greeting.

Margaret smiled, although I could see mild confusion in her eyes, “Is this your lovely wife then?” she asked me.

Jenny started coughing and I had to whack her back for fear she would choke on air.

“No, this is Security Officer Jenny Smith, she is accompanying me for the evening. Jenny, this is is Margaret, she is a courtesan of the third circle.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Margaret and then turned her attention back to me, largely because Jenny still seemed at a loss for words. “Is all well, I thought Thalian diplomatic pairs always appeared together.”

“My wife, Cecily is at Duchess Elena’s ball. I’m afraid our embassy received a few more invitations than we could easily fulfill so we had to divide our forces,” I attempted levity. 

“Poor thing, she’s probably terribly bored. I mean no slight on Duchess Elena but she does lean a bit more to the stately than the exciting when she puts on events. I’ve gone to enough of her parties in an official capacity to know. You need not worry though, the best Walpurgis festivities are always here.”

She held out her arm to me. “Can I interest you in a dance?”

I blinked. “Is that proper?”

A mischievous look crossed her face, “On Walpurgis night, all things are permitted.” Her grin grew, and she really did look a bit like the animal whose mask she wore. “Especially in White Lily Hall.” 

I hesitated, “even married women?”

She took my arm. “Oh this night, there are no rules about who may dance with whom. It’s something of a tradition.”

I glanced back towards Jenny, feeling bad about abandoning her. Margaret noticed and motioned over a young woman who wore a silver dress, a moon mask, and one silver earing. She was probably the same age as Jenny, if not younger.

“Evangeline, can you show Lady Jenny the refreshment table? I doubt she knows what half the food is.” 

Jenny’s face lit up, the promise of food sufficiently help her over any awkwardness. Margaret led me away to the dance floor. We fell into a waltz. Oddly enough, although public hand holding was unheard of in all other circumstances, Calliopeans practiced most traditional old Terran dances, even the ones that required the joining of hands. The courtesan proved very graceful, turning and moving easily. I did my best to keep up. 

“You dance well,” she said, “Do that teach that in your military academy?” It seemed she knew quite a bit about my own planet’s customs, including how our diplomats were trained. My respect for her grew, as did my wariness. 

“Yes actually.” I admitted. “I can at least stumble through anything from a waltz to a tango, just as I can more or less speak most of the major languages.”

“I’ve always thought of dancing as a sort of language. It seems they taught you well. I’m guessing you had your share of etiquette lessons too.”

“Yes. I know the right forks to use on Varcia and how to bow on Delvia.”

“How to be charming and how to listen?” she supplied. 

I nodded as she we turned.

“It would seem our educations were not so different then.”

“You have mastered the art of the smile far better than I ever have.”

“On this night, I smile only for myself.” I saw the truth of that statement in her eyes. On Walpurgis night courtesans took no clients. It was a popular saying that if a courtesan took a lover on that night, it was truly for the sake of love or passion.

Was she trying to seduce me or just flirting for fun? The dance ended and we pulled apart. Margaret had no sooner stepped back then General Reed was in her place, bowing to me. She wore a wolf mask that covered the upper half of her face. I would have known her in any guise. That damn grin was hard to mistake.

“May I have this dance?” 

I was so surprised to see her, I did not think to refuse. 

She pulled me back onto the dance floor. She lacked Margaret’s grace but there was an easy certainty to her movements. Her hands remained respectful where she touched and yet I was intensely aware of her hand against the small of my back and her fingers locked with mine.

“I did not expect to see you here,” I said. 

“I always come here on Walpurgis night, at least the years when I’m planet side.”

“The courtesan’s guild invites generals?” 

“No but Margaret always does, it’s a tradition of ours.”

“Is she a lover?” I had no idea how I’d grown so bold. 

“No, just an old friend. We’ve always looked out for each other’s interests.”

“That sounds rather mercenary.”

She chuckled, “So are most things behind the lace and careful manners of high society. Considering your profession, you ought to know that.”

“That’s always been true of everywhere I have been.”

“Even Thalia?” 

“I was never part of high society there.”

“Oh?” she tilted her head slightly, with the mask the movement was eerily lupine. 

“I was born a peasant in a small seaside village. I’d be there still if I hadn’t scored well in the testing when I was eleven and been taken to the academy.”

“It seems you made your own way, same as me.”

“I had little choice in it. The pleas of an eleven year old girl not to be taken from her family count for very little.” 

It was hard to make out her expression behind the mask but I could tell her lips had turned down. “Children cannot always know what is best for them.”

“No but they are still forced to live with the decisions that others chose for them.” I didn’t know why I was saying such things. I really shouldn’t have been criticising the practices of my own planet’s military, not to a foreign general. 

She pulled me a bit closer as the waltz slowed. “There is truth in that.” 

I grew bold again. “Did you ever want to be something else than who you became?”

She bowed her head a bit and I could see nothing but those grey eyes of hers through the mask. “I dreamed of being an actress upon the stage but women of my birth do not do such things. You?”

“A healer as my mother was.”

There was little to be said after such confessions. The song ended and the floor cleared as the orchestra took a break. General Reed released my hand the moment the music faded. She linked her arm with mine. “Come, let us find a drink.”

“I should find my escort.” 

“Your wife?” Something in her tone suggested she knew perfectly well that Cecily was not there. 

“No, an embassy security officer who accompanied me. She’s very young, I should not have left her alone so long. 

“She wearing a checkered mask?” asked General Reed. “Because it looks to me she is doing just fine.”

I saw Jenny off at the edge of the ballroom. She had a glass of champagne in one hand, some kind of small cake in the other, and was excitedly talking in badly accented Calliopean to the apprentice courtesan from earlier as well as several other young men and women with silver earrings. They all seemed to be listening with interest.

To my mild horror, as we passed, I heard her say. “And that’s how I snuck the frog into my drill sergeants bed.”

Her audience burst into laughter. 

“I really should put a stop to that,” I mumbled mostly to myself. She was not exactly conducting herself with the dignity expected of diplomatic staff.

“Let the girl have her fun.” General Reed leaned close enough to whisper in my ear, “After all, It is Walpurgis night.” 

As far as I could tell, that was apparently considered an excuse to do just about anything. I decided, in the interest of respecting local customs, to let Jenny keep telling silly stories. 

General Reed snatched two flutes of a bubbly blue alcohol from a passing waitress and handed me one. When I sipped, I found it pleasingly light and sweet. 

“It’s not trench brewed rot got but it’s strong enough and won’t make you go blind,” Reed promised me. 

We stepped out into the cool air of the balcony. I instantly regretted the skimpy nature of my dress. I didn’t even have a flimsy wrap to draw around myself. There were a few other couples out on the balcony but the cold had kept most inside. 

The view of the ornamental garden was impressive but the distant lights of the city beyond were even more enchanting.

“I can’t say I miss it.” I admitted.

“The rotgut or the trenches?” 

“Both.” 

“Same,” she admitted very softly. 

She drew me to her then, one moment we were a respectful distance from each other and then were were standing mask to mask well hidden in the depths of the shadows. 

She pressed her lips against mine, very gently at first. When I did not pull away, she deepened the kiss. 

I knew I needed to stop myself, I had to. I couldn’t do this, not kiss another woman in a public place, much less a general. 

I couldn’t bring myself to do anything until her hands began to wander. I turned my face away from the kiss. “No, we can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“I’m married.”

“That’s not much of a reason.” She pulled me closer. 

To my shame, I leaned into the embrace.

“Tell me you don’t want me,” she said very softly. “Tell me with absolute certainty and we’ll go back inside and pretend this never happened.”

“I can’t,” I was trembling. 

She kissed me again, this time far more passionately. I clung to her like she was the last solid thing in all the worlds. We were both utterly breathless when we drew back. 

“Come with me, there is a place.”

“I…” I had no idea what I wanted to say. 

She caught my chin, seeking my eyes in the darkness. “For one night of your life, do what you want, not what is expected of you.”

She had me then and she knew it. She grabbed my hand, much as Jenny had earlier in the evening except there wasn’t a shred of innocence in the gesture. I let her pull me along. Instead of going back in through the glass doors, we ducked in a side one that led into a hallway. It was dim save a few lights set into the floor. I think it was a servant’s passage.

We darted down a few halls until she pressed a card against a door and we stepped into a small bedroom. Obviously she’d had this planned all along, or had at least intended to take some woman to bed that night. Did I dare flatter myself into thinking her intention had been me?

The room was surprisingly tastefully furnished, although rather simply. The walls had uncomplicated rose prints and the bedding and carpets were all a rich burgundy.

Before I realized what was happening, she was pressing me against the door, kissing me with undisguised hunger. Goddess help me, I kissed her back with just as much need. She scrambled at my clothes. 

To my slight confusion, she went for the white silk ribbon first, nearly tearing the thing off in her haste. As soon as it was off she was kissing at my neck at my neck, nipping lightly at the vulnerable skin. 

I had to fight down a sudden burst of laughter. It was so much easier to focus on the strangeness of her action than what we were actually doing. If I started thinking about that, then I’d remember I was cheating on my wife.

She paused, tilting her lupine mask up to look at me. 

I could barely speak through my giggles. “It’s really a thing here isn’t it.”

“It?” 

“Throats being sexualized.”

She untied her mask and set it aside on a small table by the door. “Thalian’s don’t kiss necks during sex?” 

I untied my own mask. “We do but its not that big of a deal.”

She reached for my hand, tugging off one glove and kissing the palm, making me shiver with need. “Even though you run around with them uncovered all the time?”

“It’s just a body part.”

She reached for my other hand and freed that one of its silk prison as she had other other, “so are hands and everyone knows they are one of the most sensitive parts of the body. I’m still amazed Thalian women go without gloves.”

“Considering how much leg, arm, and cleavage most dresses on this planet show, I don’t think you get to talk.

“What’s wrong with cleavage?” She turned her attention to trying to get my dress off. 

“Nothing, it’s just an awfully sexual thing to go around showing off.” 

“I’m certainly not complaining,” To her credit she looked for the zipper of my dress rather than tearing. When she found it, she tugged it down and carefully helped me step out of the dress. Although neither of us breathed a word of it, we both understood I needed to be able to walk out of that room looking like nothing had happened and preserving my clothes was part of it. 

With the dress gone, I suddenly felt naked. I was wearing nothing but a strapless white bra and a pair of white underwear. I’d seldom put much thought into underwear before coming to Calliope but the risk of accidental exposure posed by short flimsy dresses had led me to invest in some nicer ones. 

Her eyes flickered downwards and for half a beat her smile faltered. She’d seen the scars that marred my stomach and side. I covered them, feeling suddenly a thousand times more exposed than I had a moment before.

I knew the scars were ugly, red and jagged. The field medic who had frantically stitched me back together after the explosion had been more concerned with getting the shrapnel out and keeping me from bleeding to death than preserving my vanity. I’d been lucky, the damage had mostly been to the skin. There had been some harm to the muscles beneath but blessedly none to the organs. I knew that there were procedures to have scars reduced but the military wasn’t going to pay for that, not for a part of my body only my wife and doctors were ever supposed to see. 

General Reed caught my face in her hands, kissing at the edges of my eyes where tears had come unbidden. “I’ve got scars too beautiful.” 

Then she stepped back just enough to unbutton her dark shirt and let it fall. Red and pink marred the pale skin of her right arm, shoulder, and part of her chest in faded lines and splotches. It touched even her right breast, reaching to the edge of the areola but not touching the nipple itself. It looked to have been from a burn but she did not tell the story of how she had gotten it. In the time I knew her, she never did.

I could not find words, so I kissed her again. She pressed me back against the door, undoing my bra to find a nipple with her fingers, making me gasp. With the other hand she pushed down my underwear I knew that the time for games had passed. We were really doing this. 

“Wait.” I gasped.

She paused, although she did not step back. Instead she forgot my breast and tilted my head up again with two fingers, looking into my eyes. “I can see how much you need this.”

I looked away. 

Then she did the cruelest thing she possible could have. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

I didn’t speak.

She kissed me just beneath my ear, her voice throaty. “Tell me to touch you, or I will leave you like this.”

“No.” 

“No stop or no don’t stop? Use your words little diplomat.”

She would leave me with no illusions about my own part in my betrayal of my marriage. For an instant, an image of Cecily flashes through my mind, beautiful and smiling, patient and kind. Just as quickly the memory of her turning away, the distance in her eyes, filled my mind. A deep ache of loneliness washed over me. 

“Touch me.” 

She kissed down my neck, lightly nipping at a shoulder blade. She nudged my legs open with a knee and then pressed her depth hand between them. She found me wet and aching. Her fingers were light, barely ghosting against my labia. 

“How long has it been,” she whispered. 

I didn’t answer. 

She slipped her fingers up to find my clit, rubbing just hard enough to make me whimper. 

“How long?” she again. “How long since you’ve been made to moan.” 

I shook my head, unable to speak, my boldness gone.

She traced down from my clit, pressing two fingers into my cunt. “How long since a woman has fucked you as hard you ache to be fucked?”

“Too long,” I sobbed. 

She fucked me then, hard and rough against the door. I tried to stay silent but I couldn’t. Desperate sounds, gasps and moans and cries tore themselves from me and I gave them voice. 

She pressed her mouth against mine again when she brushed her thumb against my clit I nearly screamed. My orgasm took me and I clenched on her fingers hard. I’d have fallen if she had not been propping me up. 

When my shudder eased, she lifted me up with an easy strength and carried me to the bed. She laid me down there, kissing me breathless even as I fought for clarity. She took me again, on my back, pressing three fingers into me, fucking me harder, curling them just enough to hit the right place inside of me. She brought the fingers of her other hand to find my clit and pressed hard.

I bit into my own palm to not scream a second time. She brought me off and then did it again, leaving me nearly boneless. When at last I could draw a full breath, I grabbed at her with the desperation of a woman who hadn’t been able to touch another, really touch, for so very, very long. 

I got all of her clothes off. She asked for my lips and tongue and I gave her that. She had more scars on the outside of her right leg but I dared not touch those. We were still strangers in so many ways. I brought her off and she came with barely a sound.

We lay intertwined for a short time afterwards. I rested my head on her naked collarbone, listening to the steady beating of her heart. I didn’t realize I was crying until she stroked my cheek and I felt the wetness spread. You never realize how much you need something, something you’ve been without, until you have it again, even if only for a moment.

She said nothing, merely held me and for that I was deeply grateful. In the end, it was I who said we needed to dress and return to the ball. She helped me, tugging up the zipper of my dress and tying my mask for me behind my head. 

The ball was winding down when we returned. She kissed me on the cheek before we stepped back into the light. “Seek me again when you have need of my touch beautiful,” and then she was gone, as if I had dreamed her. 

I found Jenny, drunk and groggy out on the balcony. She was sitting on a bench, half curled up with the pretty apprentice courtesan in the silver moon dress. They were leaning against each other in a pose that would have suited children or practiced drunks. Either way, there was a sort of innocence to it. 

I gently nudged Jenny. “Time to go home.”

She woke, her eyes blinking slowly. “Home?”

“Come on, back to the embassy.”

She pulled away from the other girl reluctantly. I gave them time to speak softly and trade words.

Soon enough we were in the embassy car heading home. On the way, Jenny said suddenly. “Are we allowed to date...Calliopean civilians I mean.”

“Yes, as long it doesn’t compromise our duties. The ambassador certainly did, that’s how he ended up with his charming wife.” Her concerns were so much easier to address than my own life. 

“Would it be okay, if I saw an apprentice courtesan? Ivy said she’s allowed to have lovers, even after she becomes a full courtesan next year.”

I pretended amusement. “You in a rush to wed a foreign bride or do you just want a lover in the Calliopean style?”

Even in the dark of the car, I saw that Jenny drew her arms around herself. “I…” Suddenly she was crying. “I...I shouldn’t want anyone. I know I should mourn a full year, as is proper. I just, I’m so fucking lonely.” 

And just like that she devolved into sobs. I pulled her into my arms because I didn’t know what else to do. She buried her face in my shoulder and cried helplessly. Part of me, a not very good part, was relieved that I had another person’s problems to deal with, so that I could ignore my own.

“Jenny?”

“It hurts, it hurts so much. We were barely married three months before Maggie died and it still fucking hurts.”

Security officers weren’t required to be married, they had to ask for matches, but it was permitted. I’d had no idea what to say. I’d had no idea she was newly widowed, she was so young. She always had such an easy smile, it had never occurred to me that it might be a mask.

She clung to me, like I was the first person she’d been allowed to touch in months, perhaps I was. Somehow she managed words through the sobs. “It’s my fault, it’s my goddamn fault. I asked her to take my shift. I had a cold and I felt like crap so I went back to the dorm and she stood my shift and she died when the bomb went off in the Delvian embassy.”

I’d known she’d been transferred from Delvia, I hadn’t realized she’d been there when the bombing happened. I’d never thought to ask. I felt the warmth of her tears against the bare skin of my shoulders. I pulled her as close as I could. I had no words, so I made soft shushing sounds and rubbed her back. My mother had always done that when I was upset as a child.

“It wasn’t your fault,” of that at least I was certain. “You have to know that.”

She just sobbed harder against my neck. 

She tired herself out before the car finally turned back into the embassy driveway. She pulled away from me when the car scraped on the gravel. 

“Jenny.” I wasn’t sure what to say. What could I beyond that it was okay if she wanted to keep crying on a shoulder. Instead I said. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”

She nodded once and then bolted into the embassy. 

I walked in considerably slower. I must have looked like a woman who’d stepped in from a storm when I entered my own room. Cecily was reading in bed but for once, at the sight of me, she set down her tablet. 

“Darling, what’s happened?” Of all the times she could have noticed something was wrong, she chose that moment. 

My heart ached inside of me. For half an instant, I almost told the truth. There was such genuine concern in those beautiful eyes of hers, I couldn't find words. I’d have sold my very soul not to lose the look of gentle affection I saw there. 

I sat down on the edge of the bed and tugged off my mask. For the first time in my marriage, I deflected one truth with another. “Did you know Jenny was widowed?”

She blinked. “Widowed?”

“She lost her wife in the bombing of the Delvian embassy last year.”

She drew up her knees and hugged them against her nightgown clad chest. “I had no idea.”

“Something about the ball tonight brought it up for her. She told me on the ride home.” 

“Oh that poor girl.” She reached for me then, the first time she had in weeks. To my shame I let her pull me close. She kissed my cheek, hugging me tight. “I can’t even imagine that kind of grief. Without you I would be utterly lost.”

I wanted to believe her. I suppose it was the truth, we had no one but each other since were girls newly taken from our families. I clung to her. 

“I love you so much,” I said softly.

“I love you too darling.” she kissed my cheek again. “ I don’t know what I would do without you.”

She couldn’t have wounded me more deeply if she’d driven a dagger into my heart. I did not sleep that night, even though she held me for the first time in weeks.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another randevou

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a somewhat random note I've changed the spelling of Calliopen to Calliopean. Apparently Calliopean is the proper adjective form of Calliope. Anyway I figured I may as well spell it correctly from here on out.

_ I drifted off briefly near dawn and dreamed of the day I first met Cecily. I must have looked a fright. I had wept inconsolably during most of the shuttle ride from my village. I’d seen the tears in my mother’s eyes as she watched the shuttle lift off and that broken me. _

_ I was the only child chosen from my village that year. Finding myself in a shuttle full of soldiers had terrified me. They had also taken two older teenage boys to be sent off as foot soldiers. The teenagers had sat silently, lost in their own thoughts. _

_ The soldiers were not unkind. One of the younger officers, who had helped conduct the testing, had sat with me, trying to offer me as much comfort as words could give. She’d promised me I was going to a bright future, that I would love the academy and someday be an officer like her. She told me that I was lucky and special. _

_ When that hadn’t silenced me, she’d tried to cheer me up with a handful of sweets. I’d only ever seen that kind of little chocolates wrapped in golden paper once before at a festival. My father bought me one and it had been the sweetest thing I had ever tasted. When I unwrapped one of the ones that the officer gave me my stomach knotted and I dared not bring it to my lips for fear it wouldn’t stay down. In the end she wrapped a blanket around me and I cried myself to sleep. _

_ When our shuttle had landed, I’d been led to a bigger transport. I hadn’t realized that the two older boys from my village were going somewhere else until it was too late to even say goodbye. There were other children on the bigger transport, all about eleven years old or so. Most still wore the simple wool clothes of the rural villages. _

_ I was put in a seat beside a girl who wore a simple blue dress and a festival apron embroidered with birds much like my own. She was tall for her age and had braided her wavy golden hair caught back in a shepherdess crown. _

_ Unlike most of the other children, her eyes were not red rimmed. She smiled at me when I sat and offered her hand. “My name is Cecily, what is yours?” _

_ “Elizabeth,” I managed, my voice hoarse from weeping. _

_ “Nice to meet you Elizabeth,” she said as formally as she might have if we were meeting beside her mother’s hearth. “Are you hungry?” _

_ “Hungry?” _

_ She nodded and took a small cloth bundle from her apron. When she unwrapped it I saw it contained heart shaped festival bread and goat cheese. “My mother made me take it with me this morning, in case I was chosen,” she said softly. “She gave me her locket too, so I’d have something of her.” She showed me a small copper locket. “The clasp is broken but she had it from her mother and said I should have it from her.” _

_ My own mother had not given me anything. She had not thought I would be taken. Most years the soldiers never took a child from our village, only a teenager or two. They didn’t care about the intelligence or the literacy of the young men and women they took to be ordinary soldiers but they wanted the children they took to be officers to score well on the written test. Most children in the village couldn’t read very well, which meant the soldiers had no use for them. The traveling teacher only came for one week each month and not at all during lambing season. _

_ My mother had made sure I could read well, the same as hers had done for her. She said it was important for a healer to be able to read and write and I was her apprentice. I don’t think it ever even occurred to her that those hours we spent practicing my letters by the light of the fire would be the reason she would lose me. Had she been a cannier woman, she might have told me to deliberately score badly but she had not been that wise to the ways of the world. The look of utter shock on my mother’s face when my name I was called still haunts me to this day. _

_ She’d tried to be reasonable at first, said I was her apprentice, that the village needed me to be the next healer. The soldiers said they were sorry but they had quotas to fill. She tried begging and that did no good either. The soldiers never threatened to take me by force but suddenly several were between my mother and me. My father had to hold my mother back as I was led to the shuttle, crying and frantic, looking over my shoulder. _

_ I was still reeling from shock that first day as Cecily tore off a bit of the bread and pushed it into my hand. “Eat. My mother always says that whatever is wrong food helps.” _

_ I ate. The sweet festival bread made me think of home. When tears came, she gave me a handkerchief from her apron and hugged me just like my best friend in the village always had. _

_ “It’s going to be okay,” she promised me. _

_ “How do you know?” _

_ She smiled, flashing her crooked white teeth. She would spend our first several years in the academy forced to wear braces. Future diplomatic officers needed to look pleasing to the eye. “Because it just is.” _

_ “Aren’t you afraid to be alone so far from home?” _

_ She shook her head. “No,” The certainty of her expression wavered and then the smile was back. “And I’m not alone am I? Neither are you. We have each other.” _

_ For the first time since I had watched my village fall away beneath the shuttle, I began to feel hope. I shared the golden wrapped chocolate wither her and we were fast friends from that moment onwards. _

_ It did not come as a surprise to either of us a year later when we were told that we had been matched and would marry when we came of age. It would still be some time before we began to fully understand what that meant. _

_ I cannot say exactly when the innocence of friendship shifted into something else, when my eyes began to follow her and hers to follow me. Somehow, between the span of one day to the next, the feel of her hand clasping mine went from an act of gentle reassurance to something that made my heart beat as frantically as the wings a baby bird first taking flight from the nest. _

The guilt that assailed me during those next several days was nearly unbearable. Yet, when I remembered the heat of General Reed’s touch, I could not wish that terrible betrayal undone. If anything I ached to do it again. I swore to myself again and again that I would never so much as speak to General Reed again but those words did not ring true even in the privacy of my own mind. 

The next week Cecily and I accompanied Ambassador Walters and his wife to a party at a prominent politician’s house. Senator Ambrose was the speaker for the majority party and a well respected public figure. She had briefly been a soldier in her youth and though she had been a civilian for many years, she still wore trousers. 

The ribbon at her throat and the gloves on her hands were black, marking her as a widow. Although her wife was five years cold in the earth and she could have set aside her visible symbols of mourning after only a year, she had not. Rumor was that she never intended to marry again.

I was somewhat surprised to see Margaret on the grey haired senators arm, greeting guests as they arrived. The concubine was dressed as elegant as always. Her gown was a rich blue silk and Delvian crystals shone on her throat and ears.

She greeted me warmly but there was no flirtation in her practiced smile. It was easy to see that she was working. She played hostess flawlessly, making every guest feel welcome. Her exuberance freed the senator to offer each guest only a simple bow. 

When Margaret spoke with the ambassador and his party she managed to say all of our names and titles and subtly provide a few relevant details about each of us. The senator listened intently. 

“Diplomatic Sergeants Elizabeth Walker and Cecily Millers are the most senior embassy staff, other than the ambassador of course,” she said. “Cecily, you were instrumental in negotiating the return of those privateers turned smugglers, weren’t you?” 

Cecily inclined her head modestly. “Mostly I just did the haggling.” 

“From what I hear, she’s good at it,” said the courtesan in a conspiratorial tone. “She talked down the emperor's staff from demanding a frigates worth of randsome to a quarter of that amount. She even got talks started on a new trade agreement in the bargain.” 

The senator’s dark eyes widened almost imperceptibly with interest. “You wouldn’t mean the loosening of the alcohol tariffs would you?” 

“Yes actually,” said Cecily.

“We must speak more about this later,” said the senator. “I’ve something of an interest in that.”

Margaret leaned over to Cecily, as if they were good friends and had not just met. “She thinks there is a market on Thalia for Calliopean wine. She says the wine market on Calliope is saturated and the wine from her family’s vineyards is not selling for what its really worth. Honestly, she won’t let the topic go and it’s terribly dull.”

It seemed to me that Margaret was not the sort to find any sort of economics or political discussion dull. She was, however, a very fine actress, able to direct the conversation where her patron needed it to go. A courtesan of her level sold a lot more that sex. From what I understood, once a courtesan earned three earrings, they might only sell their company as an escort for events, not their bodies at all. 

I had been somewhat confused and scandalized when I first arrived on Calliope and noticed that I was seeing married politicians and other officials accompanied by courtesans at events. Maria had had to explain to me that it was actually a very common practice to hire a courtesan as an escort for an event if ones spouse could not attend. Of course people hired courtesans for considerably less public things as well. 

“It’s not just me, most landowners who grow wine grapes think the same,” said Senator Ambrose. She sounded more impassioned about that then anything else I’d yet heard her say.

“So do most whiskey distillers on Thalia,” admitted Ambassador Walters. “They think Calliope is an untapped market for their product.”

The conversation continued in that vein, everyone carefully feeling each other out. Nothing could be said on record but information was still exchanged. 

The conversation ended when we were all called in to dinner. It was after the meal, as the party was gathering in the drawing room for port and rum, that the heat and closeness of the room began to make my head spin. 

I lightly tapped Cecily’s arm. She was deep in conversation with a lesser Calliopean senator about currency exchange rates. 

“I’m going to get some air.”

“Alright darling.” She said without turning. 

I stepped out through the wide french doors into the cool air of the house’s ornamental garden, breathing deeply. Cecily could handle endless hours of stuffy rooms and interminable conversations but sooner or later I often reached my limit. 

I sat down on a small bench against the wall of the house, taking deep breaths. A door opened, spilling light and sound out into the darkness. The silk of Margaret’s dress rustled as she came to join me. 

“Do you have a light?” She fished a golden cigarette case from her small clutch purse. 

“I don’t actually smoke,”

“I thought all soldiers did.”

“Not on Thalia. Enlisted men and women are permitted but it is forbidden for officers, especially diplomatic ones.” 

“To tell you a secret, I don’t either,” she said, as she put the case away. Her voice had shifted from its usual sweetly lyrical tone to something far more ordinary, even a bit tired. She leaned back against the wall, her posture easing, an invisible mask slipping from her face. “I just pretend that I do as an excuse when I need to approach people in gardens or on balconies.”

“Sly.”

“I have my moments.” She smiled without showing her even white teeth. 

“So why did you need to approach me?”

“A mutual friend of ours wants to see you again.”

I knew exactly which _ friend _ she meant. 

“Tell her that can’t happen.” I’d been helpless to refuse General Reed when she’d been in front of me but in her absence I was stronger.

“She said you’d say that. She also said to tell you to meet her in Blue Dragon Square, three o’clock tomorrow.”

“I won’t be there.”

“She said you’d say that too,” she said with a shrug. 

I didn’t dignify that with a reply. We sat, listening to the night wind as leaves slowly drifted down from the trees. 

“Tell me something,” I said at last. “How does this end? I know you’ve seen it enough times before.”

She tilted her head slightly to look at me. “With General Reed or with all such affairs?”

“Reed.”

“When she was young and careless, she got caught more than once in an affair with a married woman. A few times a jealous wife even challenged her to a duel. The one who accepts the duel always picks the weapon and the rules, she was able to use that to her advantage, naming swords as the weapon and the contest only to first blood. She always let herself lose, she knew she was in the wrong.”

The idea of Cecily ever challenging anyone to a duel was ludicrous. While we were technically soldiers, our combat training had been very limited and it was many years in the past now. Neither she nor I had ever been taught anything as archaic as sword fighting. 

What would Cecily do if she found out though? I could not picture her falling into a jealous rage or even in truth showing anger. She was the calmest person I knew. I could far more easily imagine her simply going cold, pulling further away from me then she already had. My stomach knotted. I’d give all the worlds to never see those beloved eyes filled with hurt, yet that had not stopped me on Walpurgis night.

“And now that Reed is older?” I asked. 

“She’s gotten more careful. If what is between you comes to light it will be because you slipped up, not her. I imagine that eventually your post here will end or one or both of you will lose interest.”

That was somehow not very reassuring. I let out a tired breath and rested my face in my hands. “The hell am I doing, risking my marriage for a few moments of pleasure?”

“What a lot of people do to keep their sanity. If you don’t mind me saying so, your marriage doesn’t exactly look that happy.”

I tensed “You don’t know Cecily and me.”

“No but my entire profession is putting on an act. You don’t think I can’t tell when others are doing it?” 

The french door opened and I heard Cecily call, “Elizabeth darling, are you out here?”

“Yes,” I called back standing to go to her.

She gave me a concerned look when I came back into the warmth of the room. “Are you alright darling, you look pale.”

“It was just the cold,” I lied.

  


I spent all of that night and the next morning telling myself I wouldn’t go but of course I did. Making my excuses the next day was the simplest part. Cecily was at her desk in our small quarters, head bent over papers. She barely looked up when I told her I was going out, just nodded. If she’d have only looked up, I’d have stayed.

Once I was outside the embassy gate, I flagged down a taxi instead of taking one of the embassy cars. It was a short drive to the central square outside the capital city’s main temple

I wasn’t sure what one was supposed to wear on an illicit tryst to meet a lover in a very public place but I’d gone my best. I crossed the square in one of the beautiful lose silk dresses that the ambassador’s wife had picked out for me when I first came to Calliope. 

It fell about my body loosely, dancing around my bare ankles in the soft breeze that drifted through the crowded square. I felt almost naked with so much skin exposed. The soft soled leather sandals let me feel every cobble stone I crossed. I missed the solid protection of heavy boots and long pants and even the scratch material of my uniform. 

The square was crowded with pilgrims and tourists and merchants, not to mention all the people who were merely crossing the square to get to the other side or had paused to enjoy the pleasant afternoon. 

I found myself at the very center standing beside the two story high fountain that dominated the space. The beautiful blue glass dragon stood with its wings outspread, breathing water up into the air instead of fire. The falling drops reflected the later afternoon sunlight in cascades of rainbow light. No matter how many beautiful things I saw on Calliope, I found that I could still be moved.

I didn’t hear General Reed’s steps but I felt her hands as she slipped them around my waist, the warmth of her palms bleed through the silk of my dress as she laid them against my stomach. Raw need burned through me so fast I felt dizzy.

Her breath was scalding against the back of my neck, “there’s a place for us to go, just beyond the square.”

I wanted to turn to her, grab her, kiss her in the middle of that great huge impersonal place. I wanted to be as exposed in my desires as I felt in that moment. 

“Go to the east side of the square and up the second street to your right, go into the third alley and knock on the red door.

Then she was gone and I was standing there all alone. Some part of me wanted to turn away even then, go home, find Cecily in her study and demand her attention. I should be fixing my marriage not chasing a foreign soldier. Then again, if I went home Cecily would probably still ignore me, I knew that Carmen Reed wouldn’t.

I crossed the square, went up the street, entered the alley and knocked on the door. Someone yanked it open and tugged me inside. I knew it was her even as she caught my hand in her own and pulled me down a dark hallway and up a set of stairs. 

She pushed open a door and we both stumbled into a room full of daylight.

“Where are we?”

“Just a place I rent.”

I looked around. For a love nest it was a very simple sort of place, one tiny living room with nothing in it but dull blue couches and a half wall partition that separated it from a kitchenette. There was a beautiful tinted window that took up the whole eastern wall and looked out onto the street below, it was tinted, so that no one could see in.

She took my hand to lead me down the hallway. The bedroom was as devoid of habitation as the rest of the place. There were generic landscape prints on the walls and nothing else. There was no futunitre save for a small bedside table and the bed of course. 

We took things slower than we had the first time, touching, caressing, enflaming. She undressed me as carefully as she had the first time, we couldn’t risk a ripped garment. She slipped off her own clothes quickly before I could offer to assist. 

She made a fine picture naked, all lean muscles. She had clearly not grown lazy during the last year of peace. Although she surely spent most of her time at a desk, she must be must be making time to work out. When she caught me looking she had the audacity to wink. 

I giggled and then realized what I had done. It didn’t seem right to giggle when I was in the middle of cheating on my wife. Infidelity ought to be a deadly serious matter, not a game.

She saw that she had lost me for a moment and sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling me into her arms and kissing me. She eased me back down onto the comforter. 

She took her time kissing at my neck, hard enough for me to feel it but careful enough not to leave a mark. She knew what she was doing. She worked her way down my body, paying my breasts fare attention with her lips. Catching one nipple between two fingers and pressing hard enough to get a sound. 

“You can be as loud as you want,” she told me. “This place has good sound proofing. I knew she meant that to be reassuring but something about how she phrased it was troubling. 

She kissed down my body. When she came to the scars on my stomach, she glanced up. “Is this a part of you that’s okay for me to touch or do you want it left alone?”

It struck me then that although she had pursued me so boldly, she seemed to know what boundaries to honor. I supposed she had scars of her own, she understood. 

“Just be careful, the skin’s tender.” On bad days the muscles beneath still stiffened and hurt. 

She kissed my stomach as she had the rest of me. The strange intimacy of the act reminded me of Cecily. Guilt tore at me but before it could consume me, she kissed lower. She quickly showed that she knew how to put her tongue to other uses than just charming words. 

She began lightly with the flat of the tongue and when I responded appreciatively, used the tip, pressing hard against my clit, sometimes in a circle and sometimes across. When I was on the edge of orgasm she pressed two fingers into me and brought me off. 

I could have come again and made a low sound of disappointment when she pulled away. Perhaps she was just eager to get to her own release. I could understand that. I sat up, reaching for her but she had crawled away to the edge of the bed to get something out of a drawer on the nightstand. 

“I’ve brought something I think you might like to try. Have you ever seen one of these before?” 

I did laugh then when I saw what she had. “Do you think Calliope is the only planet with dildos and strap-ons?”

She slightly raised an eyebrow. “Did your military issue you one with your wife.”

She’d meant to be funny but her words stung, as if they cheapened my life and marriage.

“Cecily and I weren’t issued to each other. We were matched and each chose to accept the engagement. Either of us could have refused.” Except of course, no one in the academy ever did, not unless they couldn’t stand to be in the same room with each other. 

She saw she’d mistepped and quickly pivoted. “So, do they sell these on Thalia?”

“Yes, although I bought my first one on Terra Nueva.” 

Terra Nueva had been the first posting Cecily and I had had in an actual embassy instead of a base. It had been the first time we had lived in a city, the academy on Thalia had been in the middle of nowhere and we were not allowed to leave the grounds on our own. 

In the capital city of Terra Nueva, we had more freedom than we had ever had before in our lives. We’d explored parks, and restaurants and all manner of stores. Discovering our first sex toy shop had been something of a revelation. 

Cecily and I had made good use of the toys we bought there over the years that followed, at least we had when we were still having sex with anything approaching regulatiry. 

“So, you interested?” She tilted her head slightly, looking rather smug. 

“Yes.” More than I cared to admit.

Before I could ask which of us she meant to wear it, she began to fiddle with the straps. I reclined, watching her. The dildo she added to the harness was blue and looked to have been made of a sort of soft plastic. It was also a bit bigger than most toys I had owned. 

I felt suddenly shy. She crawled back over to kiss me, reigniting my need. 

“How do you want to do this?” 

I almost said hands and knees. If we did that then maybe I could forget that she wasn’t Cecily. It struck me suddenly that it wasn’t what I wanted at all. It had been so long since my wife had really looked at me, I needed desperately to see and be seen, even if it wasn’t by her. 

I thought to ask to be on to[ but somehow that didn’t seem right either. It would mean taking far too active a role in what I was doing. The absurdity of that feeling wasn’t lost on me. I was betraying Cecily whatever I did, the exact nature of the sex acts hardly mattered. 

All the same, I said. “On my back with you over me.”

She grinned and reached for a pillow, helping me get it under my hips. “Missionary? Really?”

“Is that considered wild or tame here?” 

She slicked her fingers from a small bottle of lube and pressed them into me. “It’s common enough, I suppose, but it is more traditional for the person being penetrated to be on top.” 

From what I had seen of Calliopean media, this was true. Their TV shows and even advertisements had more sex than any other planet I’d been on. 

“You’ve never struck me as very traditional.” 

“Some would say that playing seductress is one of the most traditional roles a woman can take.”

She withdrew her fingers and shifted her weight to line up the toy. She kissed me as she pressed it into me. 

I must have tense because she slowed, pausing to let me adjust. 

“You okay beautiful?”

“Yea, the toy’s just big and it has been a while.” I wished I hadn’t said the second part as soon as the words left my mouth. Most of the sex toys that Cecily and I owned had not even been unpacked since we got to Calliope. 

Reed had the good grace not to comment or make another joke, instead she kissed my cheek. “Tell me when your ready for me to move again.” 

She slipped a hand between us, finding my clit and rubbing. Soon enough she had me moaning and moving my hips. My body ached for the toy inside of me and the pleasure it could give. 

“Move.”

She did, carefully at first, fully sheathing the dildo inside of me. The feeling of fullness was intense and wonderful. 

I leaned up to whisper in her ear. “Fuck me.”

She began to move in earnest, although still gently, watching my face for cues. 

I moved with her. 

The damn knowing smirk of hers was back. She still had the fingers of one hand rubbing my clit, although not quiet hard enough. Drawing things out for her own amusement. 

I ached, I needed, and nothing was enough. My desperation made me bold. I leaned up to whisper in her ear. “Go on, fuck me like you mean it.” 

She did, hard and deep and increasingly rougher as my cries drove her onwards. She moved the hand she had on my clit to the bed, so that she could balance better. I replaced it with my own fingers. 

Between the toy inside of me and my own touch, I was lost. I closed my eyes and came with a desperate gasp, clenching on the toy so hard she couldn't move it. I wasn’t done though. 

“Keep going, please keep going.” 

“Open your eyes and I will.”  
“My eyes?”

“I want to see the look in them as I make you orgasm.” Her silver gaze was intense, filled with hunger and something else I couldn’t name. 

She began to move again, this time drawing the next release out of me slowly. 

I had never felt more open or exposed. Half of me was overwhelmed and wanted desperately to look away, the rest wanted to keep looking into those quick silver grey eyes forever. 

“Keep touching yourself, keep looking at me,” her voice was somewhere between a command and a breathless plea. 

My orgasm crested slowly like the rising tide. I fought instinct and kept my eyes open. For a few beautiful seconds my uncertainty and loneliness faded. And then my eyes closed of their own volition as my release tensed my entire body. 

She eased the toy from me and pulled me into her arms. Half of me wanted to cry from the pure feeling of release and the other half wanted to cling to her. What I didn’t want to do, fought doing for as long as I could, was opening my eyes and seeing that I was in a stranger's arms. 

I did have to eventually. I couldn’t risk falling asleep and returning home too late in the day. 

Somewhat ridiculously, she kissed the tip of my nose when my eyes finally blinked open. 

“You really needed that didn’t you,” for once she wasn’t teasing, there was a softness in her voice that made my heart ache.

“Yes,” I admitted. 

She looked as if she might say something else and the idea of our strange intimacy growing any deeper was suddenly unbearably. 

“You still need to get off, don't you?” I said quickly.

“No rush.” I could hear the need in her voice. 

My bones felt like rubber and yet I desperately need to regain some feeling of control. I nudged her shoulder and she rolled onto her back for me. 

With awkward fingers I scrambled at the buckles of the leather harness so that I could free her of the toy. She had to help me. 

I found her slick and with desire and when I pressed two fingers into her, she moaned wonderfully. I fucked her like that, straddling her on the bed, fingers moving faster and faster inside of her, the fingers of my other hand rubbing at her clit. 

She came very quickly, clenching on my fingers but making little sound. She had probably been on edge since she first touched me. 

“Enough beautiful,” she gasped. 

I eased my fingers from her and stretched out beside her. She raised her arm just enough for me to rest my head against her chest. I could hear the steady thump of her heart now slowing from her recent exertion. The intimacy of that was almost too much but I could not find the will to pull away. I drifted off like that. 

She woke me a short time later. The light pouring in through the small skylight had dimmed as the day began to fade. She urged me into the small bathroom, where I showered quickly. 

I noticed that all of the soaps and shampoos in the shower stall were completely unscented, something fairly rare on Calliope. They scented everything on that planet, even laundry detergent. General Reed was smart enough not to send a woman home smelling of an unfamiliar soap.

Blow Drying my hair took longer than I would have liked. I had often wished to cut my hair shorter for practicality’s sake but Cecily had always said she loved it long, so I kept it that way. 

When I emerged from the bathroom, General Reed was already dressed.She led me back down the hall and at the front door of the apartment she said, “Best you go first.”

I nodded.

She caught my gloved hand in her own. “Can you come again?”

“I…”

“I’ll be here at noon in seven days time.”

“What if I can’t come?”

“Then I’ll get some paperwork done.” Her smile was overconfident. She was absolutely sure I would come. “Now get going, best you don’t get home too late.” She pulled me into one final kiss and then gently nudged me out the door. 

I walked down to the street in a daze. I knew I should have hailed a cab immediately but instead I walked back through the square. It was still busy but less so. Most people I passed looked to be heading home or on their way to the temple for evening prayers. 

On impulse, I paused by a street vender and bought a paper bag of small square cookies filled with chocolate, called Cavi. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I put one in my mouth. It was nearly dinner time. 

I walked all the way to the high street, letting the life and sound of the city flow past me. Instead of a cab, I stepped onto a street car. Fortunately I’d thought to take my transit pass with me that afternoon.

It was crowded and I had to stand. All around me were commuters on their way home. I noticed a couple, two young women, each with a bag of groceries. They looked tired, and one was leaning against the other, an arm around her lover’s waist. Almost absentmindedly the other woman leaned over to kiss her on the edge of the mouth. The first woman laughed softly and whispered something in her ear. 

I felt suddenly deeply alone. The strangeness of everything around me became too much, the foreign faces, the language that wasn’t my own, the smell of unfamiliar flowers that wafted from a large bouquet the woman beside me was holding. I hunched my shoulders and covered my face with one hand. 

I felt a brief tap on my arm. “Ma’am are you alright, do you want to sit?” 

A man perhaps half a decade younger than me looked up from a seat beside where I stood. He must have thought I was in pain or tired. 

“I’m fine. My stop is next. Thank you though.” I forced a smile. 

I got off a block form the embassy. It was a short walk. The embassy was quiet when I came in. It was a rest day and much of the staff had likely gone into the city or were in their rooms. 

When I went up to my room, Cecily was at her desk, as if she hadn’t moved in all of the time I was gone. Had she even noticed my absence? 

“I went for a walk,” it was the biggest lie of omission I had ever told. 

“That sounds nice, how was it darling?” She pushed back from her desk, rubbing at her eyes. It was what she always did when she’d been reading too long and was feeling the strain. 

“It was a pretty day. I got some Cavi.” 

A tired smile came to her lips. “Oh, you going to share?” 

“Of course,” I offered her the bag. 

She fished out a cookie and bit into it. “These are good, thank you darling.” She took another and held it up to the light. A very odd expression flickered across to her face. “These have dragons on them, did you go all the way to Blue Dragon Square?”

I froze. I was a complete idiot. I’d let myself be caught by a stupid paper bag of cookies. I lied as best I could. “Yea, I wanted to see the fountain again.”

“It is lovely, especially at night. I’ve heard there are some good restaurants around there too," she said absently.

In one breath I said. “We should go some evening.” 

She nodded “Yes, that’s a good idea.” Just as quickly, her face fell. “Not this week though, things are so busy. Maybe next week.”

“Okay,” I tried to hide my disappointment. 

She saw it anyway. “Oh love, I’m sorry, I know I’ve been working all the time. It’s just this damn trade agreement.” 

“I understand.” I didn’t though. We were both working on the same trade agreement. Why did it take all of her time when it didn’t take all of mine?

She stood up to kiss my cheek and then sat down. “You go on to dinner. I just need to finish one last thing and I’ll follow.” 

I went knowing that she wouldn't.


	5. Chapter 5

The next week passed in a blur of negotiations. I barely saw Cecily at all. She seemed tired most of the time and there were circles under her eyes. I guessed from the restless way she tossed and turned at night that she wasn’t sleeping well. 

When I asked her if she was alright, one morning before we went down to breakfast, she said she was fine. When I pointed out how restlessly she’d been sleeping, she sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed at her forehead. 

“I’ve been dreaming of Orion,” she said softly. 

I had been the one injured but she was the one who’s dreams had been haunted. We’d been standing together when the mortar hit. I was closer to the blast and my body blocked the shrapnel from her. I wish I could say I selflessly flung myself in front of my wife to protect her but the truth is that it all happened so fast I had no idea what was happening. 

One moment there was a bang and then the next thing I knew, I was on the ground with Cecily beside me begging me to stay with her. The pain hadn’t hit until later. I never saw Cecily truly afraid until that day in the field hospital with me. She’d stayed by my side every moment, watching me with wide terrified eyes, clutching my hand like she thought I’d vanish if she let go.

“The same dream?”I reached for her hand. She let me take it but didn’t squeeze back. 

“This one is different. It is not like how things really happened.. I keep dreaming that the explosion has buried you in the rubble and I can’t get to you. At first I can hear you and then there’s no sound and I'm just digging and digging.” She looked down at her lap.

“Do you want to try seeing a psychiatrist again. Last time you said it helped.” The embassy had one on staff. Diplomatic staff couldn’t exactly go to a Calliopean civilian to talk through their problems. The embassy psychiatrist also handled all arrival and departure evaluations.

“No, I’m fine really. It’s just dreams.”

“You’ve been having them a lot.”

She pulled away from me, standing. “I can deal with it. We both know it won’t look good on my record if I seek counseling too often. I only talked to that one after Orion because it was required.” 

“If you need it though…”

“I don’t!” For an instant something very close to anger flashed across her face. 

She saw the answering confusion and hurt that came to my face. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just stressed. This is such an important posting. I’m sure I’ll feel better once this batch of trade agreements are settled.”

In the past, she would have at least waited for a response, even stopped to comfort me. Instead she grabbed her satchel and headed for the door. “I’ve got an early off site meeting, I’ll see you tonight darling.”

I went through that morning in a haze. While I would never be as skilled a negotiator as Cecily, I had gained a reputation for being fairly good at understanding cultural differences and explaining them. This meant I did most of the basic cultural briefing for new staff.

It also meant I had to be the one to remind and reprimand staff when they ignored my cultural briefing. I met with most of the embassy’s security for our biweekly sessions of cultural sensitivity training. 

I always included a bribe of food to try to soften the nagging. This week I’d gotten Naka, a kind of donut like pastry shaped like a fish and filled with cherry paste. The younger guards like Jenny, devoured those. I’d have thought they weren’t getting enough to eat, except I’d had breakfast with most of them a few hours before.

Once everyone was starting to sink into a sugar induced haze, I gave my speak.

“Alright, I know you all think it’s silly but you’ve all got to be better about wearing the gloves and ribbons, even inside the embassy grounds, and that includes all public areas of the embassy.” While the ribbon and gloves rule only applied to women, re-emphasizing that was only going to rub nerves raw. 

“I don’t see why we have to. The embassy is technically sovereign Thalian territory,” grumbled, Thea, one of the older guards. She was a tough old soldier who’d served for years at the front before a bullet wound to the leg got her reassigned to embassy duty.

“It is, but the gloves and ribbons are a cultural norm, not a matter of law. Lady Maria said the foreign civilians we’ve hired to do the cooking and cleaning and maintenance have been talking.”

“What? Are they scandalized by the sight of a woman’s neck or hands?”

“I think it’s not so much they are shocked as they seem to think us uncouth. To them it's like seeing someone go about without a shirt.”

That just got me more grumbling. I swear I heard someone in the back mumble that shirts were overate. 

I took a breath. “Which brings me to the matter of shirts. You have all got to start wearing shirts when you practice Avisho in the courtyard.” 

“Even the men?” asked one of the younger male guards, Trevor.

“Especially the men.” I said. While women on Calliope could wear very low cut shirts or even sometimes ones that showed their stomachs, men on Calliope never exposed any part of their chest or stomach in public. 

“But it’s traditional,” protested, Mark, a greying haired male guard who headed up most Avisho practice in the embassy. Normally Avisho training and matches were done in loose trousers and nothing else, although women wore sports bras.

“It is but the afternoon sparring matches you lot have been having are the reason dinner is almost always late. The civilian kitchen staff have been sneaking into the courtyard balcony to watch.” 

“That’s hardly our fault,” protested Trevor.

“No, it’s not but rumors are starting to circulate none the less. They already think its wild we practice martial arts in mixed gender groups but the whole shirtless thing is a bit much for them. We’ve already had the mother of one of the kitchen girls complain after she overheard her daughter talking about it. You know how weird Calliopean’s get about protecting the “innocence” of unmarried young women.

“They can’t be that innocent if they are the ones spying from the balcony,” said Thea. “Besides, what harm did seeing someone without a shirt ever do a girl or woman of any age, especially if she’s the one who went looking?”

“This is about public perception, not reality. I know it is annoying but while we are on Calliope, we need to try to be as respectful of their customs as possible. 

That got me more grumbles. I was glad I’d saved some good news for last.

“Oh a happier note, the Terra Nuevan embassy has challenged us to a rematch of last year’s soccer game. I trust we should have no trouble kicking their asses again. The ambassador has asked anyone interested in playing to meet in the outer field for practice at 6pm each Third Day.”

I dismissed everyone and headed towards my desk in the main carole area. Jenny caught up with me in the hall. 

“Lady Elizabeth,” She called out.

I turned startled to be called that by her. I suppose she’d heard Calliopeans refer to me that way. 

She blushed. “I mean Diplomatic Sergeant Walker.” 

I gave her a smile to reassure her. “What can I help you with Private Smith?” 

She saluted stiffly. “I wanted to um, ask you about Calliopean customs, since your an export on them and all.

“I’m hardly an expert but I’ll try to answer any sort of question you have.” I paused and sat in one of the embassies many window seats. It was an odd architectural feature I had only ever seen on Calypso before I came to Calliope. The embassy had several in every hall and most rooms as well.

She sat, looking at me nervously. “So what does a coffee date means?” 

“You seeing that lovely apprentice courtesan again?” I teased gently. “The one who was dressed like a crescent moon at the ball?” 

She nodded. “Evangeline asked me to go to a coffee shop. What does that mean?”

“I’m guessing she wants to drink coffee with you.” 

She nodded seriously, as if I’d answered her question instead of stating the obvious. “What am I supposed to wear?”

“Something simple, coffee shops are informal spaces.”

“So not my uniform.”

“Definitely not that. 

“Should I bring her flowers? People in the movies here do that.”

“From what I understand it is not something you do on a first date. It’s what courting couples do when they are a little bit more serious.”

Jenny frowned. “Wait, so if I don’t bring flowers, will Evangeline think I’m not serious?”

“Jenny,” I said gently, deciding to dispense with formalities. “Don’t overthink this. She knows you are a foreigner. Honestly, if you can’t think of something to talk about, ask her how dating works on Calliope.”

She nodded and then her shoulders slumped as if her strings have been cut. “What the hell am I doing?” 

“Going to have coffee with a pretty girl from the sound of it.”

For an instant she smiled at my words and then she closed her eyes, leaning back against the window seat. “I have no idea what I’m doing. Maggie and I never dated. I asked for a wife and we were assigned to each other. We had barely a week to decide if it would work before we needed to ship out.

“We knew what we were supposed to be to each other from the very beginning, even when we were still strangers. Every step we took, we had to take it carefully, because we were playing for keeps. Those few months we had were spent getting to know each other.

She took a breath, pushing down hurt that was all too recent. “It’s just so confusing here. How do people handle doing the getting to know each other part first and the commitment thing second?”

“I don’t know.” I admitted. “They seem to manage about as well as we do.” Not that things always worked out all that well in our system. The crumbling state of my marriage was proof of that.

“But you still think I should do this?”

“Yeah. Life is short. Go have coffee with a pretty girl.” It was a very un-Thalian sentiment but we were on Calliope after all.

When I went back to General Reed’s secret apartment, things went in one directly very quickly. She had me against the door as soon as it closed behind me. She got me off like that, still clothed, with three of her fingers inside of me. 

As soon as the aftershocks of my orgasm faded, I fell to my knees and got her off with my fingers and tongue. She came with very little sound, although she tugged my hair so hard it hurt. I found I didn’t mind. 

She slumped down the edge of the wall, catching her breath as I did the same. We were in one hell of a state. She had her pants caught around her knees. My dress was half unlaced and hiked up to my hips. It would have been comical if I didn’t still burn for her. 

I reached for her, eager to begin again. She grinned and took my hand, pulling me to my feet. “Come on beautiful, let’s go to the bedroom. I can promise you the bed is much softer than the floor.

I let her lead me there. We used the strap-on again. This time, I felt bold enough to ride the toy with her on her back. A strange wildness had come over me. I wanted desperately to forget all the worries that had clawed at me since that morning, to be a creature of pure pleasure and sensation. I could feel my orgasm building and I grabbed at the headboard fucking myself against the dildo, her hand on my hip guided me.

When I closed my eyes, I didn’t think of her, I didn’t think of Cecily, I didn’t think of anyone. I felt the primal spark of my release sparking through me. 

“Open your eyes beautiful.” Carmen Reed’s words cut through my fog of pleasure.

I did and was met by the intensity of her grey eyes. I had never noticed that she had specs of gold and green in them. She had robbed me of my moment of peace and yet I couldn’t blame her for it. 

Afterwards as we lay curled together, lazily watching as the light that streamed in through the skylight brightened and dimmed as clouds passed before the sun. 

“You’ve gotten very bold little diplomat,” she murmured. 

I wasn’t sure what to say.

“You’re guilt easing a bit?” she asked. 

I wasn’t sure if she meant the words to be cruel or merely playful but they still cut me to the quick. I rolled away from her. “It’s a relatively new feeling for me, not so much for you, I’d imagine.”

She wrapped an arm around me and kissed my naked neck from behind. “Not really. I don’t go in for the whole guilt thing.”

“Never? Even in all your many affairs?” 

“No.”

“What about love?” I wasn’t sure why I was asking but suddenly the answer mattered to me greatly. 

That earned a soft laugh, “Once, before I knew better.”

“What happened?” I knew I was prying but it seemed to me that it ought to be alright when we were naked in bed together. 

“Time and distance, I suppose. I was involved with another officer when I was in the academy. After we graduated, we were posted to different places and it fizzled out. We ended things amicably.” She tapped my nose. “What? Were you expecting some tragic backstory of betrayal or lost love to explain my current promiscuous habits and disregard for the matrimonial status of others?”

“I hadn’t ruled it out.” 

“I’m afraid I really am the shameless rogue people think me to be. I sleep around because I want to. I pursue ostensibly unavailable women because I like the thrill of the chase.”

“You make it sound like a game.

“Much of life is.”

“You did not act like it was a game when we negotiated the ceasefire on Galileo.

“Some games can be deadly serious.” 

I wasn’t sure what I thought of that. If we were playing a game, what sort of game even was it? It was hardly an equal one. The stakes were so much higher for me than for her. 

I showered before I left and walked back across the square to catch the trolley car again. This time I did not buy any cookies that would show where I had been. 

I saw her only a few days later at a harvest ball but on by the emperor’s wife and consort, Dutchess Gweneth. While on some planets the wife of an emperor would have been considered an empress, that was not the way on Calliope. An emperor or empress’s consort never ruled in the case of their death under any circumstances. Emperors and empresses were always careful to name a guardian to rule in the case of their death while their heir was still too young to ascend the throne. There had been more than a few too many cases of mariticide for the sake of seizing power early in their history and no one wanted that repeated.

Cecily and I were supposed to accompany the ambassador and his wife to the ball. The day before about half the embassy staff, Cecily and the ambassador were laid low by a seasonal flu that had swept through the city. 

While there was supposed to be a vaccine for it and we had all gotten it, it was apparently less effective than usual that year. The Calliopean ministry of health had guessed incorrectly when they tried to predict which strain of the flu would be most common that year. The vaccine still slightly reduced your chances of getting the flu and the severity once you had it but it wasn’t pleasant. It was the most dangerous for children and the elderly but Cecily was still running a high fever on the night of the ball. 

I wanted to stay and take care of her but she insisted that I go.

She sat up in bed as best she could, looking exhausted and flushed with fever. “We need a presence at the ball and Lady Maria can’t go alone.”

“She can take someone else.”

“Who? Jill and Mark are both sick.”

“Maybe Jenny?” I suggested half heartedly.

In spite of how bad she was feeling, Cecily still managed a laugh. “Didn’t you say she spent the whole Walpurgis night ball eating, drinking, and telling stories about playing pranks on her first drill sergeant?” 

“True.”

She reached for my hand and then thought better of it. She had been trying very hard not to get me sick, to the point of insisting I sleep on a pallet in our sitting room while she was still contagious. “I’ll be fine darling. I really will. If you want to make me feel better, go fulfill the duties I can’t instead of sitting around and fretting over me.”

I almost said that I didn’t fret, but she did have a point. “Alright I’ll go but you call me if you get worse.” 

“I will darling,” she told me.

Not that there was much I could do if she did. The embassy doctor had been one of the first to get sick. We’d been relying on a Calliopean doctor who came a few times a day and some of the older Calliopean civilian staff to help take care of everyone. Apparently most older Calliopeans seemed to be immune to that year’s flu, it was likely that many of them had been exposed to or had a similar version of it a decade before. 

A cool rain was falling when Lady Maria and I crossed the courtyard to the embassy car. We arrived at the palace to find the main ballroom far less crowded than usual. Half the court was either sick or avoiding public events in order to not become so. There had even been talk of cancelling the ball but that would have gone against tradition. 

The only precaution that had been adopted was that no one was doing the traditional air kiss greeting that most women did. Everyone bowed, which was fine by me. We were created by Dutchess Gweneth, although there was no sign of her royal husband. Apparently rumors that the emperor had fallen ill were true.

The ballroom had been beautifully decorated with golden and orange and red leaves as well as squashes and gourds from the palaces own grounds. There was a fine table laid with all manner of pumpkin cakes and spiced ciders.

In spite of the fine string quartet playing, there were actually very few couples dancing on the central floor. Families had kept home their eligible sons and daughters, better to miss a few weeks of the courting season than fall ill and potential spend even longer with the ugly hacking cough that could persist long after the fever faded. 

I saw only a few married couples dancing, but even more nobles I knew to be married were there alone without their spouses. There were very few courtesans present. Just the day before several of the larger guilds, White Lily included, had announced that none of their members would be taking public engagements or attending any large events until the worst of the epidemic had passed, although their members could still see existing clients privately. As the guilds were responsible for the medical care of their members, the decision was likely an attempt to control costs more than out of concern for guild members wellbeing.

Maria considered the sparsely filled room, frowning. “I suppose we may as well dance.”

“It’s permitted?” We were both married after all.

“On a night like this, it ought to be. We’re practically family and we’ve both got good enough reputations to be above reproach.”

Guilt tugged at my heart. I no longer deserved my own reputation. I put away that thought as I took Maria’s gloved hand and followed her lead. She moved as gracefully on the dance floor as she did in all aspects in her life. 

She smiled as she turned us. “You’re a fine dancer Elizabeth.”

“I had to take a lot of classes in the academy and even more when I got here.”

“I wish my husband would take more. I love that man with all my heart but it is a rare ball when he managed to not step on my feet at least once.”

Her tendency to both express her deep love for her spouse and gently complain about him in the same breath always surprised me. It was almost unheard of for a Calliopean diplomat to publicly do either. Love, at least the depth of it, was a private matter and it was bad form to every criticize your partner. On Thalia though, it was very common. Complaining about a slight but understandable failing of a spouse was seen as a form of expressing affection. 

She twirled me and kept talking. “My first husband was a good dancer, it’s a shame he was such a fool.” 

I missed a step. “You were married before?”

“Yes, in my second season as a debutante to a boy just as young. He was terribly handsome and very charming, we had a few good years. The problem was that he always made bad decisions when it came to money. He wasted much of his inheritance on unwise investments. When he wanted to do the same with my dowry, we quarreled. When we could not reconcile, so we divorced.”

“That was permitted?” I knew that Calliope had divorce but it was rare. There was a social stigma attached but nowhere near as strong as it was on Thalia. Among members of the military, especially the diplomatic corps it was unheard of.

“Yes, I had to give cause of course but financial disagreement is one of the most accepted reasons and much less shameful than infidelity.”

I must have still looked amazed because she added. “It all worked out for the best really. I quickly found that I rather liked my new freedom. I had a good decade of running my own affairs before I was tempted to marry again.” She lowered her voice slightly. “And your ambassador has the good sense to respect that my dowry is mine and mine alone to do with as I see fit. I’d never have married him if he didn’t, no matter how much I adore him.”

From what I had heard, Lady Maria was of high birth but only moderate wealth. She’d had many sisters and thus not a particularly large dowry. Perhaps having less money made her all the more protective of it.

Control of a women’s dowries was one of the most controversial issues on Calliope. In the past, husbands could do with their wives’ money what they wanted. That had all changed during a series of legal reforms three generations before under a powerful empress. Now women controlled their own assets and any money they brought into a marriage left with them. Even in death, they could will their assets directly to their children or other relatives, instead of their spouse, if they wished. To be fair, men had those same rights as well, although they always had. 

The whole business of dowries and inheritance was strange to me, although I had studied the subject in order to understand Calliope. Cecily and I had had nothing to our names when we wed. Officers were not paid for their years in the academy. We had some money now in our joint account but we still only received half of our wages each month, the rest was held in trust until our retirements. If one of us died before the other, the survivor would receive the held wages of the dead spouse all at once. It was a grim thought.

Maria and I finished dancing and stepped from the floor to avail ourselves of the drinks and food. While we were eating at a small table, a friend of Maria’s joined us. As I listened to the two women talk, I felt something on the back of my neck. My hair was coming down from it’s carefully braided twist on the top of my head. I made a quick excuse and slipped off to find the bathroom. 

I caught sight of General Reed at the edge of the room as I walked. For an instant our eyes met. I looked away. Truth be told, I was afraid of what would happen if she approached me publicly now that so much had passed between us. Could I even act like nothing had happened?

One thing I had always found amazing on Calliope was their public bathrooms. They not only separated them by gender but the women’s ones were impressively lavish. The one in the palace was a large room with a huge wrap around mirror and countless little chairs to sit and fix your hair. 

Off down the hallway was a series of single stall toilets, with doors that actually reached all the way from the floor to the ceiling. There was also another hall with a series of rooms that had only a mirror, a counter, and a chair. 

I’d found the purpose of those rooms baffling when I first arrived in Calliope. Maria had explained to me that they were a place for women to steal a moment alone if they felt tired or overwhelmed at a ball. You had the choice to fix your hair in the main area of the bathroom if you wanted to be social or alone if you didn’t. 

I ducked into one of the small rooms with a chair. I had just begun to take down the tumbling mess of my hair when there was a soft knock on the door. That confused me. The doors showed a small red stripe on the outside when they were locked and I had locked the door.

“I’m in here,” I said in annoyance.

The knock came again. I stood up and opened the door. I was, in truth, not surprised to see General Reed. She slipped into the small room and closed the door behind her. 

“No, absolutely not!” I hissed. “Get out.”

The smile she gave me seemed almost wolfish. “You know you want to.”

When she moved towards me, I kept her back with a hand. “This is too dangerous, we could be caught.” 

“That’s the thrill.” She reached for my hand, folding it in her own and drawing me closer.

“We could cause a goddamn diplomatic incident! This is the bloody royal palace.”

“Nah, worst case scenario would be a small scandal, if that. I’m known for this kind of thing and you’re not an important enough public figure for anyone to care.”

I still hesitated. She drew me into a kiss and my resistance crumbled. I kissed her back with the frantic need she seemed to always draw out of me.

She didn’t try to undress me, just hiked up my silk skirts and pushed my underwear down. She pressed her fingers against my clit in a firm circling motion that had me gasping. 

She brought me to the edge before she pressed her fingers into me and fucked me against the wall. It seemed to me that we had to be terribly loud but the hallway was deserted and the walls were solid. She covered my mouth with her own to silence the cries that arose when I came. 

Mindful of how little time we had before someone wondered where at least one of us had gotten off too, I scrambled at her belt, tugging her pants down and urging her onto the rooms chair. I sunk to my knees. I quickly tugged off my right glove and then used my fingers to part her labia so I could bring my tongue to her clit. 

She made an appreciative sound and tangled her hands in my chaotic hair. I didn’t waste time teasing. I pressed hard with my tongue. As soon as her breath grew haggard, I caught her clit between my lips, sucking roughly enough to hurt a little. She came with a muffled sound. She must have covered her mouth with a gloved hand. 

I sat back on my heels, fighting to catch my breath as she tugged her pants up. She helped me stand, guiding me to the chair I had just been. 

“Oh dear, you can’t go back out with your makeup like that.” She sounded very pleased. 

A quick glance in the mirror told me the truth of the matter. My lipstick was badly smeared. Shit, how long would it take me to fix that and my damn hair?”

With an impressive efficiently she snatched a makeup removing cloth from a box that was provided on the counter and helped clear away the ruined lipstick. As I cleaned my hand with a similar cloth and tugged back on my glove, she reached for my small purse without any invitation and fished out my powder compact, lipstick and comb. She reapplied the power and then the lipstick with far more skill than I would have expected from a woman who didn’t wear either.

Before I could even start on my hair she had tugged out all the pins and ties that held my hair and begun to rapidly brush it out. 

“They teach hair styling in the Calliopean military academies, do they?” I asked unable to conceal my own amusement. 

“No but it’s a skill I’ve found useful. Not all women are good at fixing their appearance after a couple orgasms. In spite of my reputation, I do try not to get caught.”

As soon as my hair was untangled, she deftly twisted it back up and pinned it in place. She shoved the extra pens and makeup back in my purse and handed it to me before standing. 

“Go now. I’ll wait a bit and then return to the ball as well.”

I nodded and slipped out. When I returned to the ballroom, Maria was sitting at the head of a large group of people. She was holding forth on her opinions about the stock exchange. She spared me a glance as I returned to her side. 

“Oh, a french twist, that looks nice. You should wear your hair like that more often,” she said before returning to discussing capital gains. 

Cecily was soundly asleep when I got home. When I laid a hand against her sleeping forehead I found that her fever had broken. Relief flooded through me even as guilt weighed down my heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General Reed actually was originally supposed to have a tragic backstory. In the first draft of this chapter I wrote an entire scene where she talked about how her first love was a fellow officer who was killed by a mortar explosion in the trenches. She cited that heart break as part of the reason she had little interest in allowing herself to fall in love or become overly involved with anyone again. Almost as soon as I finished the scene, I realized that it didn't really fit her character.
> 
> One of the strangest things I've realized as a writer is how easy it is to fall into cultural expectations and narrative cliches without even realizing you're doing it. Promiscuous characters, especially women, are almost always shows as being somehow broken or damaged in some way, be it a traumatic childhood, a history of abuse, or a broken heart. It is very rare to find a fictional woman who sleeps around simply because she wants to.
> 
> General Reed makes no apologies for her desires or actions, so as a I writer I see no need to make any for her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions and answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Points to anyone who can find the Emily Dickinson reference

Cecily recovered quickly and never suffered the hacking cough that so often followed the flu. The rest of the embassy who had fallen ill were slower to recover. I ended up making far more public appearances on behalf of the embassy than I ever had before. 

By the end of most days, my face ached from smiling. On one particular trying afternoon I had to appear for an interview on a news channel and talk about the new tariff agreement. 

I’d thought I had been booked for a serious news segment on economics but I quickly realized that the station meant it to be a puff pieces on the merits of our planet’s different alcohols exports.

The problem was that, as a diplomat, I could never say anything controversial, even if it was only admitting a personal preference for Thalian whiskey over Calliopean wine. 

The well dressed host had fun messing me as soon as she realized I could say nothing negative about any trade good. 

“So the Thallian embassy has no official position on the best mixer for Thalian whiskey?” 

“Not at this time.”

“Really?” She was clearly fighting not to laugh at my solemn answer. 

I forced a smile. “I’ll have to ask the ambassador and get back to you. His family owns a distillery, I’m sure he is far more knowledgeable on the matter than I am.”

A giggle escaped her. “We at Station Seven will await an answer with bated breath.” 

I got through the interview without violating any of the restrictions I had to follow, I still walked away feeling like a stodgy idiot. Cecily would have known how to get through it with her dignity intact, even been charming and funny, she had a talent for that. I decided to find her and ask her advice when I got back. 

There was no sign of her in our rooms when I returned. I assumed she was in the office but when I went there to take care of a few papers before dinner, she was not there. She returned just as dinner was starting. 

When she sat down beside me at the table, I leaned over to kiss her cheek, as I had countless times before. I noticed that for once, she didn’t smell of the lavender perfume she’d worn since we came to Calliope. I had smelled it on her that morning. Had she showered in the afternoon?

She startled slightly at the feel of my lips.

I hadn’t seen her this jumpy since the months after I’d been medevaced from Orion back to Thalia.. Even as I had healed and grown stronger, she’d become increasingly nervous and jittery, to the point she’d been forced to go for a psych evaluation and counseling. She’d gotten her psych clearance around when I’d gotten my medical one and we had never really talked about it. 

“Cecily?” I asked softly. 

“I’m fine darling,” she whispered back. 

I noticed that she barely picked at her food. Considering how much better the food was in the embassy on Calliope, as compared to anywhere else we had been, her lack of appetite was unusual.

She rose as soon as was acceptable and left the table. I followed.

I found her back in the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumped, her face in her hands. She made no sound as she cried. 

“Cecily.” I rushed to her. I sat beside her on the bed and reaching to pull her into my arms. How had I not seen how upset she was?

She scooted away from me, looking up with tear stained eyes. 

“Please, I just need a moment alone.”

Every instinct in my cried to pull her closer, to comfort her. There was something wild, almost frantic in her face. She was looking at me like I was a stranger, an intruder, someone other than her wife.

I stood on shaky legs, my stomach aching. “Okay.” If she wanted a moment, she could have one. 

I went out into our sitting room. There was nothing there but a low couch we never sat on, the room was really too small to use as anything more than a hallway and a place to keep coats. 

She’d asked for privacy but it wasn't like I really had anywhere to go. Even as I reached for the door, I realized I had tears in my eyes. I couldn’t leave our rooms like that. Someone would see me and gossip always spread like wildfire in small embassies.

I sunk down onto that small hard couch. My sobs took me before I realized what was happening. I had to fight to keep them quiet. It occurred to me, as I pressed my hands against my mouth, tears streaming down my face, that Cecily was probably doing the same thing on the other side of the door. 

I quietly cried myself to exhaustion. I kept waiting, hoping, that she’d open the door. She’d come out, she’d come check on me, she’d come ask me to hold her, she’d at least tell me I could come to bed. She never did. I fell asleep on that stupid ornamental piece of furniture. 

I woke with an aching back and a headache from crying. I saw her for half a second as she slipped past me, already dressed for the day and on her way to breakfast. It took everything I had to stand, to go shower to dress, to face the day. 

I felt as empty as a spent shell casing. I stumbled through the day in haze. I was supposed to go see General Reed that afternoon. I knew, even as I climbed the steps to her apartment, that this would be the last time.

I still fucked her. She was a hard woman to refuse, even when my heart was a knot of pain inside of me. 

Afterwards we lay together, curled up beneath the warmth of the soft blue comforter.

I laid my head on her shoulder, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. I needed that intimacy, that touch, so much it was more than I could bear. 

I didn’t realize that I was crying until the skin of her shoulder under my cheek grew wet.

She didn’t say anything, just pulled me closer. 

I fought down the tears. “This can’t happen again. I’m losing Cecily and I don’t know why. If this is making it worse, I have to stop.”

I felt her body tense against my own. After a moment she said very softly, “I understand.” 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. 

We lay for a long moment in silence, still holding each other but not really touching. 

“She does love you, you know,” 

“How do you know that?” I said wearily.

She caught my chin and tilted my face up to actually look at her, “She told me as much after the first time I slept with her.” 

“What?” scrambled away from her as if I’d been burned. 

She watched me with tired grey eyes, “What, you thought you were the only one fooling around?”

I felt as if the whole world had fallen away beneath me, “how?”

“Same way I seduced you. For what it’s worth I think she’s as guilt ridden as you and she’d no more cheated before than you had.”

It was hard to tell if I should be angry at General Reed, Cecily or myself. I found myself saying, “Is that why she’s been so distant, because she’s been fucking you?”

She shrugged her damn naked shoulders, “Probably. Look at it this way. At least now you two have something in common.”

Were I a violent woman, I’d have slapped her then. I wasn’t though, I never had been. Instead I pulled away from her as if stung. I frantically cast about for my clothes, snatching them up. My hands were shaking so bad I couldn’t get my bra hooked. 

She drew the blanket around herself. “I shouldn’t have said that, forgive me. Sometimes I speak lightly when I should not.” 

“You think!” I hissed. 

“Elizabeth, please. Don’t leave while you’re this angry. You can’t arrive back at the embassy like this.”

I wheeled on her. “Don’t you fucking tell me to calm down!”

Wisely she didn’t. 

I gave up on the bra and flung it to the floor in frustration. I gave it a couple solid kicks but felt no better. I was shaking so hard I couldn’t stand anymore. I slumped onto the edge of the bed, covering my face. 

“Was this all just a cruel game for you?”

She looked away. “No. I never intended to hurt either of you.”

“No you just did what you wanted!”

“So did you,” she said if softly but her words cut me to the quick. 

I covered my face my body slumping. I was crying again and I couldn’t stop. When she reached for me I wanted to shrug her way but I found I didn’t have the strength. In the end, I accepted the comfort because when the hell was anyone ever going to hold me again?

When I couldn’t cry anymore she handed me a box of tissues and I spent a while clearing my nose so I could actually breath. 

“I should go.” I managed finally.

“What are you going to do?”

“To talk with my wife. As you said, at least she and I have something in common now.”

She watched me dress and go, wisely not saying anything more. Her face was nearly unreadable. She seemed like a woman watching a sad movie, certainly moved by the events unfolding before her but removed and without any real sense of involvement.

I had turned to go when she said. “For what it’s worth, I hope you and Cecily work it out.”

“That doesn’t mean much coming from you.” I was too tired to be angry anymore. 

“I know but all the same, I wish you both well.”

I nodded and then left without another word. There is not a proper answer to a blessing from a source you do not wish.

I found my Cecily in our room, writing at the desk. I came in and closed the door behind me. 

“Cecily.”

She didn’t look up. “Just a moment.”

“Cecily, I need to talk to you now.” 

She must have heard the sob in my voice because she turned. “Darling?”

I slumped onto the edge of the bed and forced myself to meet her beautiful blue eyes as I said. “I’m having an affair with General Reed.”

Her eyes went wide. She remained silent for far too many heart beats. She reached up to rub at her forehead with a trembling hand. “So am I.” 

When she saw no shock on my face, she asked. “She told you, didn’t she?”

I nodded. “When I said I couldn’t see her again.”

She closed her eyes. “She’s made fools of us both.”

“I think we managed that well enough on our own.” I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling empty inside.

She didn’t say anything, just looked at me like the sight of me was breaking her heart. 

“Just tell me one thing, what did I ever do to cause you to push me away,” I asked.

“What?”

My courage flared up, fueled by pain. “We both know you’ve been distant since Calypso.”

Her face burned. “I never meant to and then when I realized what was happening, I didn’t know how to find my way back to you.” 

“But why, why don’t you love me anymore!”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I love you. I’ve loved you since we were girls.” 

“Then why don’t you touch me, why won’t you even talk to me anymore?” 

“I…” she took a breath. “I’ve been having panic attacks since Calypso. They started when were negotiating the Acorn Treaty. The nightmares started then too.”

“You never told me.” 

“I didn’t want to worry you. I just...I can’t keep doing this. I can’t live up to everyone’s expectations all the time. I can’t be perfect for everyone all the time, especially for you. It’s just too much.”

I sat up, “me?” 

“I can see it in your eyes darling. You look to me like I’ve got all the answers, like I can get us through anything. I’ve always tried to be the person you think I am, to never let you down or disappoint you but I just can’t anymore, not with the panic attacks. I spent all the time feeling overwhelmed and still fighting to smile and function. By the time I’m alone with you at the end of the day, I just have nothing left. It has been easier to turn away.” 

How had I never realized how things were weighing on Cecily. She’d always been the stronger of the two of us, the smarter one, the more capable one, the prettier one. It had been that way since the academy. She got the better marks, she was the one the teachers called a wunderkind. She was the reason we got promotions and important assignments. I had never thought to wonder what all that cost her. 

“I don’t want you to be perfect, I just want you.”

She looked at me like she wanted to believe me but in the end she just wrapped her arounds around herself. I’d never seen her look so vulnerable. I suppose she had never let me before. 

“How can you even still want me when you’ve seen me like this?” She asked softly.

“Because I love you.” I stood up, crossing the distance between us to kneel beside her chair and take her hand. “I always have and I always will. I’m sorry, I’m so very sorry you’ve been facing the panic attacks and everything else alone. I won’t fail you like that again.”

She clutched my hand. “You haven’t failed me.”

“I’m you wife and I didn’t make you feel safe enough to tell me what was going on.”

She sunk down from the chair to sit on the floor with me. “And I’m the dumbass who kept everything to myself and left you all alone in the process.”

“You are.” I hugged her and she leaned against me. I wasn’t sure if we were at the end of the storm or the eye of it. 

We stayed like that for a moment, as if afraid any more words might shatter the fragile peace between us. 

At last I asked. “So why General Reed?” 

“Because she was devilishly charming and I didn’t have to pretend that everything was alright when I was with her. I didn’t care what she thought of me, so I could relax I didn’t have to smile or be nice. I could just fuck her without worrying about making love.” 

My heart knotted. 

She looked at me. “What about you?”

“As you said, she’s very charming. I was terribly lonely and she wanted me. I needed to be seen, to be touched, and to be desired. She gave me that.”

“I suppose we both had our reasons,” she said. 

I pulled her closer. “yes.”

“So where do we go from here?” she asked. 

“The bed unless you want to keep sitting on the floor,” I suggested. 

Her laughter was a beautiful sound. 

Somehow we found our feet and made it to the bed. 

We hadn't made love so desperately, if it was even love that we were making, since we left the trenches of the war. We hadn’t clutched at each other with such ferocity since the last time we survived a mortar bombardment. 

She kissed me with a passion that I had thought was lost to us. Her hands were trembling and yet she still managed to tear my dress. She got a hand into the delicate silk of my bodice and yanked until the whole thing gave way. My bra, one of the damn flimsy Calliopean ones, faired little better once she had a hold of it.

Her lips were like fire against my breast when she lowered her head. She bit and I cried out. I didn’t care that the walls may as well have been paper in the old embassy or even that the sun was still up. I could think of nothing but that she was finally touching me again.

I tangled my hands in her golden hair as she laved the nipple she had just nipped. She caught the other breast between her fingers, pinching hard. I whimpered and arched against her. 

She started to kiss lower but I tangled my hands in her golden hair, tugging hard. She raised her beautiful eyes, confusion written there.

“I need to see your face, my love,” I said softly. 

She caught my lips with her own. 

I sunk into that kiss, letting it wash over me, sinking into the feeling. I let my eyes drift shut for an instant. The moment they closed, a deep fear seized me, yes when I opened them again, she was there looking back at me. 

“I love you,” I had said it so many times that the words had become almost as commonplace as wishing her good morning and yet at that moment it held as much meaning as it ever had. 

“I love you too Elizabeth,” she whispered. 

It had been so long since she’d actually called me by my name. Something inside of me broke and then began to heal in that same instant. Hope is a thing with feathers that perches in the soul waiting for just the right moment to take flight. 

I drew her as close as I could, kissing her with all the emotions I could not find words for. I’d have given all the worlds for that moment to last forever but both our passions had hold of us and we had to see them through. All kisses must end in time, even the best. 

She ran her hands down my body, finishing tearing the last scraps of my dress. She caught at my underwear and tugged them down. I raised my hips to help her, parting my legs for her.

She ran her hands up my thigh, as if learning the skin there for the first time. There was no hesitation when she reached the apex of my desire. She pressed her fingers up to brush my clit, pressing hard and making me whimper with need. 

She knew what I needed. She pressed three of those same fingers into my wet and aching body. I clutched at her shoulders, digging my nails into her skin, the way I knew she liked it, the way she’d always begged me to touch her after we’d survived another shelling in the trenches, the way she said always made her feel alive. 

She cried out, making a low moan of pleasure as she began to fuck me, hard and deep and true. I arched against her touch, even as I clawed at her back. She gasped and curled her fingers inside of me in just the right way, bringing her thumb against my clit to get me off all the faster. 

Soon enough, I arched and clenched on her fingers with a desperate sob. She saw me through my orgasm and to another and then another until I was nearly limp beneath her. Then she laid beside me, pulling me into her arms until my body stopped trembling. 

When I reached for her, still weak from my release and yet terrified that if I did not touch her quickly enough I might lose my chance, she caught my hands and kissed them. 

“We have time, Elizabeth. I’ll still be here when you catch your breath”

And she was. When I had the strength, I rolled her beneath me, kissing her everywhere. I brought her off once with my lips and then a second time with my fingers so I could watch the spark of orgasm burn through her sky blue eyes. 

When our passions were sated, we lay together, tangled in each others arms, exhausted and a bit in awe. I was reminded of the first few times we had lain together. I would never forget that sense of wonder.

While we had been matched very young, the academy had never provided any substantial sex ed for engaged couples until shortly before marriage years later. Such instruction, which nearly universally proved to be a bit after the fact for most couples. As girls, Cecily and I had been fairly convinced we had invented a great number of things that had come to us naturally. It had almost been a disappointment when we later confered with our peers and learned that nearly everyone else who had sex did similar things. I suppose there are worse disapointments in life than learning that you have not, in fact, invented oral sex.

I rested my head on her chest, listening to the steady rhythm of her heart. “I missed you,” my words felt inadequate. 

“I missed you too,” she whispered.” She kissed my cheek. After a moment she said. “Where do we go from here. How do we not lose each other again?”

“I don’t know.” I admitted. “I guess we just keep fighting for us, for each other, for ourselves.” 

She drew me closer. “I’m scared that I’m too tired to fight for myself anymore.”

Honestly is a very dangerous thing. The moment we give our fears voice, they can become bigger than us. Sometimes, though, we need to give things a name, it’s the only way we can face them.

It broke my heart to hear her so scared. “I’ll help you fight for yourself Cecily, you’re not alone.”

“I don’t want to be a burden to you,” her voice sounded very small.

“Was I a burden to you after Orion, during all that time in the hospital?”

“No, of course not,” she said quickly.

“Then you know that you can never be a burden to me.”

“There’s really a way through this, isn’t there?” 

I wasn’t entirely sure if she meant her own pain, the distance that had come between us, or all of it.”

“Yes and we’ll find it together. I swear it.” I wasn’t sure how I would make good on my words but I would try.

  
  


\--- Epilogue--

_ One Year Later  _

I made my way through the dowager empress’s harvest ball, the silk of my dress swishing, the sole of my low heels clicking softly. Cecily walked at my side. 

We reached the dowager empress and waited as she finished conversing with the Varcian ambassador. Cecily and I bowed together. The dowager’s lip twitched, as if the synchronization of our movements have amused her. She kissed us both briefly on the foreheads and bid us stand. 

“You two girls seem well.” Only she could call grown women girls and sound kind instead of insulting. 

“As do you, your grace,” I replied. 

She studied me with those sharp eyes of her. “Congratulations on your promotion to the rank of Embassy Director. I’m sure it’s been a relief to your poor ambassador to finally be able to hand off some of his duties.”

“Mostly I think he’s just happy to not have to deal with the plumber, order paper towels, or handle HR paperwork anymore,” I admitted with my best smile. 

In truth, it was the ambassador’s wife I had really delivered from such drudgery. The position of Embassy Director had been empty for several years and Lady Maria, in her position as ambassadors wife, had been filling most of those duties after the last Embassy Director died of a stroke.

As our embassy had been growing, those duties had begun to become too much for Lady Maria, who also still had to make significant social appearances to support the embassy and her husband’s work. It had been her, who’d told me to officially apply for the position and made sure I got it. Apparently escorting her to countless garden parties had been a wise career decision. 

The dowager returned my smile. It wasn’t an entirely true one but it wasn’t a mask either. The slight inclination of her head showed her actual approval. “Responsibility must suit you. You seem much happier that you did when I first met you.” 

That woman could have been an oracle for the truth she managed to slip into her polite and cutting words. She was old enough to have earned the right. 

I wasn’t entirely sure how to reply, so I bowed again and thanked her. Cecily and I continued to make the rounds. It was hard to miss how much calmer she appeared than she had at most events we had attended in the past. 

Her shoulders weren’t stiff and her smile was easy instead of pasted on. The burden of greeting each acquaintance at a ball now fell on me and the lighter task of listening and remembering fell on her. It was rare for one member of a diplomatic couple to outrank the other, as promotions were usually simultaneous. In the case of site specific positions, it did happen though, there could be only one Embassy Director. 

Rather than work in a support capacity to me, as would normally be expected, she continued in her work as the senior diplomat in charge of handing trade negotiations. Her work was too vital to the embassy for her to change her duties. For the first time in our lives, we each carried only the weight of our own careers. 

I had not thought that spending less time working together would have brought us closer but it had. We were both a lot happier to see each other each evening now that we did not have desks side by side anymore. Somehow not having the same problems made it easier to listen to each other’s worries and concerns. 

We were still struggling in many ways. Cecily’s nightmares and PTSD had worsened rather than improved for a time after our first heartbreaking conversation. Maria had again proved our most valuable ally in the embassy.

A week after Cecily and I had talked, Cecily had had a panic attack at a dinner party we were attending together. I’d rushed her from the room before anyone could notice. At least, no one noticed but Maria. She’d followed us and seen the state that Cecily was in, hyperventilating and shaking and told us she could help. 

She was able to set up a way for Cecily to see the embassy psychiatrist off the books. Apparently she had already quietly done that for several other diplomatic officers. I had not been aware of it, but following a spate of suicides in another embassy, central command had created a program where all base counselors were allowed to have several hours a week that they could see anyone who came in without recording who it was.

The therapy had helped and Cecily had seemed more and more like herself with each passing day. As she grew stronger, we started actually talking more and bit by bit we began to repair the gulf of silence that had grown so deep between us. She learned to trust and lean on me again, to not hide her pain from me. We still had a long way to go but we were doing better.

As we walked through the ballroom, Cecily’s hand suddenly tightened on my arm. 

I glanced at her. “Cecily, love?”

She looked sharply to our side and I saw the reason for our concern. General Reed was strolling towards us. Although she had been at many events with us over the past year she had had the good grace to not directly approach us. While Cecily and I had each chosen our own actions the year before, the General was hardly blameless. 

I leaned over to whisper in Cecily’s ear. “Should we speak with her or slip away?” 

“Face her,” she replied resolutely. 

General Reed bowed deeply. “Good evening Diplomatic Officer Walker, Diplomatic Officer Miller.”

We returned the gesture with bows of our own. As she had greeted us with a formal bow, we were permitted the same level of formality in return. 

“General Reed,” I greeted her stiffly. I honestly had no idea what to say to her. 

“You both look well,” damn if she didn’t make that sound like an innuendo. Her grin didn’t help. 

“We are,” I said. 

General Reed studied us both carefully, her eyes seeking hostility or interest. “I hear that congratulations are in order, Officer Walker. It seems you are on your way in the world, perhaps I will someday be calling you ambassador.”

“I’m only an embassy director. I’m still many years from such a promotion but it does put me on that career track.” If things went well over the next several years I would likely be permitted to apply for the position of Consular General of a consulate, and from there begin the slow upward fight of seeking to be appointed to the level of ambassador. It seemed an impossible dream but Ambassador Walters had told me that the Thalian government was considering opening a consulate on Calliope’s southern continent. If that happened, I knew I would be a natural candidate for Consular General. 

General Reed tilted her head slightly. “It does mean that you will be staying on Calliope for a time longer, though, doesn’t it?

Even after so many months, she could make my pace quicken and my breath grow short, even as I stood beside my wife. The way Cecily’s hand tightened on my arm again told me that she must have been feeling much the same. 

“Yes, we will be staying on Calliope for longer than we first thought,” said Cecily, her voice impressively steady. 

The general smiled that sly smile of hers. “You two must have a drink with me some time to celebrate.”

I froze, utterly unsure of how to react. 

Cecily gently caught my chin to turn my face and look into my eyes. When she found the answer she sought she released me and addressed Reed. 

“We’ll let you know.”

Reed bowed deeply. “I await your answer eagerly.” 

Of course she did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap. As always, if you liked this story, let me know. I'm honestly really curious about who followed this story all the way through and why. The Art of Diplomacy has had one of the lowest number of hits of any multi chapter story I've posted so far, so I'd love to know both how reads found the story and why they followed it.
> 
> On another note. I'm finally about to work up the courage to launch a website with my original writing. When I have everything set up, I'll add the details to my profile and in the end notes of whatever story I post next. I'm probably just going to go with a traditional website on a web host, like wordpress or squarespace. Out of curiosity though, are there any social media platforms that are a good place to post and share original work? I assume tumber is out since if they banned explicit material recently.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this story come check me out at my website catherineyoungbooks.com. I have more stories there and for the moment they are all free.


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